


Go North

by sheraiah



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works, The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-18
Updated: 2016-09-07
Packaged: 2018-03-02 00:11:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 24,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2792714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sheraiah/pseuds/sheraiah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A rewrite of the horrid last scene between Legolas and Thranduil in BOFA. Major spoilers for the film.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Title: Go North  
Author: sheraiah  
Genre: Tolkien's works  
Warnings: Violence, battle and it's aftermath, major character deaths (canon and past tense), spoilers for BOFA.  
Disclaimer: Not mine and if I was making any profit from this, I wouldn't be slaving away in retail management.  
Author's notes: DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU HAVE NOT SEEN BOFA!!!!!!  
S  
P  
O  
I  
L  
E  
R  
S  
P  
A  
C  
E

 

Still with me? Okay. Let's forget for a moment, because Peter Jackson et all certainly did, that Aragorn was only 10 years old and still living in Rivendell, blissfully unaware of his heritage. This fic is my attempt to fix a scene that annoyed the hell out of me in the movie. Most of you know that Thranduil is my favorite of Tolkien's creations and the way he was written towards the end of BOFA seriously pisses me off. Let's fix that, shall we? Aragorn was born in TA 2931. The events of the Hobbit took place in TA 2941. Where the timeline gets screwy ala Jackson is during LOTR. It was actually YEARS between the time that Bilbo left the Shire and when Frodo set out on the Quest. So Aragorn was 87 during LOTR but he was 10 during the Hobbit. Hope that clears it up.

 

 

 

Ooo

 

 

The lone figure, cloaked and clad in green, strode lightly and carefully over the vast moor. His feet made no sound and left no print to mark his passing. A stray strand of blond hair escaped the hood he had drawn over his head and stirred in the breeze. The wind had a chill to it, but the cold did not affect the being. His eyes, as gray as the sky above, scanned the horizon tirelessly. He need not stop for the night if he did not wish to, but warm food would be a change from the hardtack and dried meat he had been surviving on of late. He had seen rabbits aplenty on the moor, and he knew where to find roots to supplement any meat he managed to hunt.

 

The moor made him nervous, though he did not show it. He had been born and lived his entire life in the deep woods of his homeland. Open land such as this was foreign to him. He could pass unseen, he knew, but it made him edgy all the same. 

 

His thoughts were a turmoil as well. So many changes in such a short while had thrown his life into chaos. His people were supposed to be able to rise above and take the long view, but he was young for one of his kind and had been rather sheltered by virtue of his position. He had faced danger all his days, had trained as a warrior practically since he could walk, and had long been blooded but pitched battles under the eaves of the trees of his home were not the same as war. He had seen the face of war now, had lost those he cared for to it and he would never again be as he had been. He sighed, remembering his leave-taking from his father that had set him on the course he now took....

 

He had found Thranduil in the ruins of Dale, mercifully unharmed though bloodied. He could see the relief in his father's eyes to see the same was true of him. Thranduil said nothing at first, drawing him into a tight embrace, careless of armor and orc blood. They stood for several heartbeats, merely gripping each other tightly, he with his face buried in his father's cloaked shoulder and Thranduil resting his cheek on Legolas' tousled and dirty hair.

 

“They are dead. The dwarf king and both of his sister's sons.” Legolas' voice was toneless, beyond emotion. He felt Thranduil's arms tighten around him.

 

“I am selfish enough to be very glad that I am more fortunate,” his father said quietly. 

 

“Tauriel lives, but...”

 

“I know, my son.” Thranduil tightened his embrace briefly before stepping back to look Legolas in the eyes. “I know well how that particular loss feels.” He sighed, releasing his son. “I rescind Tauriel's banishment. I will look after her, regardless of what she decides her fate to be from this time forward.”

 

“Adar, I cannot go back. I cannot watch...”

 

“I know. She is the closest you will ever have to a sibling. I see now it was that and not as I thought. I wish now that it had been, if for nothing else than to spare her what she now must endure. Where will you go?”

 

“I do not know.” Legolas looked back at his father, lost and rudderless as the broken skiffs that floated aimlessly around Long Lake in the aftermath of Smaug's destruction of Lake Town.

 

“Go North, to the Dunedain. There is a young ranger among them. His father, Arathorn was a good man. His son could become a great one.”

 

“What is his name?”

 

“He is known in the wilds as 'Strider'. His true name, you will have to discover for yourself.” Thranduil drew him close again. “Be careful, my son. I will be waiting when you decide to return home.”

 

 

ooo

 

He saw the light of the fire from several leagues off. It had been concealed well enough that it was doubtful that any but an elf would have detected it. Legolas approached cautiously, soundless as only an elf could be. Chances were, as well as the fire had been concealed, that it was one or more of the Dunedain but he did not wish to find out he was incorrect by being careless. He dropped down behind a bush within earshot of the camp.

 

“Halbarad, leave some of that stew for the rest of us. Troll balls, boy, you won't starve to death if you only get two bowls full!” Laughter met the older ranger's statement and the one named Halbarad scowled, flushing.

 

“Leave him be, Dirhael. He's having another growth spurt. He can't help it any more than you could at that age. It'll be new breeches and boots for you when we get home, eh?” He tousled Halbarad's hair affectionately.

 

“Most likely,” Halbarad replied, grinning. “Mother will have a cat; it's the third time in two years.”

 

“Not your fault the men in your bloodline are long-legged. Look at your cousin; your legs won't be quite as long as his but you'll be close.” The most senior of the three handed the refilled bowl of stew to the youngster. “Eat up. We've plenty despite what Dirhael says.” He shot a look at the third Man. “Ease up, Dirhael. We're two days out of the Shire. We can reprovision there. The small folk may be wary of us, but they don't turn down our coin.” 

 

Chewing his lower lip, Legolas weighed his options. These were the Dunedain, the first he had seen in his travels. The area they were is was relatively peaceful and the Men, while watchful, weren't likely to draw first and ask questions later. He might not get another opportunity any time soon. Decision made, he rose to his full height.

 

“Greetings to the camp!”

 

The Rangers immediately stood, hands on their sword hilts. Legolas carefully kept his hands raised at shoulder height and empty.

 

“What do you want?” the eldest Ranger called.

 

“Company and to share your meal, if you have enough. I have some roots and berries I have gathered in my travels that I can share in exchange.” Legolas took a deep breath and, drawing back his hood, he stepped into the circle of fire light. The eldest Ranger cocked his head, studying Legolas at length.

 

“You're a ways from home, judging by your clothing, Master Elf. What brings one of King Thranduil's folk all the way out here?”

 

“I lost many I held dear in battle not long ago. My lord king felt that I might benefit by experiencing the world beyond the wood of my birth for a time.” Legolas did not lower his hands. “My name is Taurion,” he said, using the alias he had agreed upon with Elrond and his sons. Tauriel would be amused, should she ever learn of it. “Master Elrond and his sons suggested I travel this way.” He jerked his head towards the pack he carried. “I have a token from Master Elrond to prove the truth of my words.”

 

“Take your pack off slowly and drop it.” Legolas complied and Halbarad quickly snatched up the pack. Legolas remained still and silent as his pack was searched. The scroll that was the token was quickly found and read. “This is in Master Elrond's hand and this is his seal. Why send you to us?”

 

“I am a master archer, Master Elrond felt that I might be of use to your people in that respect. I would wish to earn my keep, regardless of where I go.”

 

“Dirhael, what do you think?” The elder asked.

 

“If Master Elrond hadn't vouched for him, I wouldn't consider it,” the Man said bluntly. “I trust the Master of Rivendell not to send anyone who couldn't be trusted.” He held Legolas' gaze for a long moment. “You've got yourself a trial at least, Master Taurion. Halbarad, give him a bowl of stew and make room for his blanket.” Legolas let out the breath he had not realized he was holding and slowly put his hands down.

 

“My thanks, for the trial and the stew.”

 

“Don't thank us yet; Dirhael isn't much of a cook!”

 

 

The End (for now)


	2. Ch 2

Title: Go North ch2  
Author: sheraiah  
Warnings: Violence, character death (canon and past tense), AU  
Author Note: As many have realized, Peter Jackson, et all have played with the timeline in LOTR, thus throwing off the timeline in The Hobbit as well. I have decided to run with this deviation. 

 

 

 

Ooo

 

 

Life amongst the Dunedain was vastly different than anything Legolas had previously experienced. In the course of traveling to the Shire with the group he had joined, he had come to realize exactly how sheltered his life had been. Even on patrol in the furthest edges of his father's realm, his life had not been as difficult as that of the rangers he traveled with. Swallowing his pride, he admitted his lack of knowledge and humbly requested to be taught in the areas in which his experience was lacking. His request seemed to shock the two elder rangers, but they agreed to teach him and he set to his lessons with a single-minded intensity that soon won even the stern Dirhael over.

 

“You know, you don't have to do everything perfectly, Taurion,” Halbarad jibed good-naturedly. The Men had quickly discovered that Legolas had a sense of humor lurking just beneath his serene mask and that it took very little to make it surface.

 

“I wish to do the best that I am able.” Legolas/Taurion shrugged in typical elaborate elven fashion. “I have always been so.” He and Halbarad were preparing the fire pit and laying the kindling, taking their turn at the task as the Men were wont to do. He got to fire going and sat back, looking around to see what else yet needed to be done. Seeing nothing immediately, he addressed Durion, the third member of their group. “What else may I assist with?”

 

“Here, peel and slice these roots for me.” Durion handed him several of the roots. “I'm going to stew the rabbits you brought down earlier. They're a bit on the thin side, stewing them will make the meat go further.” Legolas pulled a small knife from its hidden sheath in the top of his boot and turned one of the roots over in his hand, considering how best to go about peeling it. Durion chuckled, taking both root and knife from him long enough to show him the easiest way to peel before handing it back. He knew now, after several days traveling with the elf, that Legolas was a quick study and seldom needed to be shown more than once. The elf set to peeling the roots with the same determination that he did everything else. Durion chuckled again. “You go about all of this as if you expect to be tested.”

 

“Am I not being tested? Besides, out here mistakes cost lives,” Legolas countered, none of his humor in evidence. “If I am to be of use to you, I must learn and learn well.”

 

“You must have had some hard taskmasters during your training at home,” Halbarad commented.

 

“So I did,” Legolas agreed readily. “Not the least of which was my Adar. However, it was a different kind of training to what you are giving me. I have never had to cook or dig privy pits. I was always my patrol's scout. We did not trade jobs as you do. I believe your way is the better one, in terms of overall survival knowledge. I can forage enough to keep myself alive for an extended period of time but I was never prepared to live for weeks and months away from my kin or basic supplies. I was never expected to have to do so. If for no other reason than this, I am glad that I am here.”

 

“Taurion, may I ask you something? You can refuse to answer if you wish,” Dirhael met his eyes steadily. The Man was not lacking in confidence. Few even among his father's council would meet either his eyes or Thranduil's for very long.

 

“Ask what you wish,” the elf replied quietly.

 

“You're noble-born, aren't you? You've the look of a Sindar about you, even if you don't have the build.” Legolas gave him a brief, startled look and Dirhael smiled grimly. “I've spent a fair amount of time in Rivendell. Enough to know that elves aren't all of a piece.”

 

“True enough,” Legolas agreed. “Yes, I am. My Adar is Sindar. My mother was Silvan.” Dirhael nodded.

 

“That explains rather a lot.” Legolas flashed a grin at him.

 

“More than you know, Friend Dirhael.”

 

 

ooo

 

 

The Angle was not as Legolas had expected. He had thought it would be little more than a fortified village, but it was far larger than he had anticipated. And it was far better fortified than he had thought it would be. He mentally chided himself. He should know better by now than to underestimate his companions' kindred. Traveling with Durion, Dirhael and Halbarad had taught him that many of his preconceived ideas of Men were as erroneous as much of what he had been taught about dwarves. He kept his eyes open and his mouth shut, preferring to let Dirhael handle any questions and introductions,

 

He was unsurprised to find out that Dirhael was the acting chieftain. The heir to the role, he found out, was still very young and was still undergoing training. He gathered that the young one's training was going well, however, from random comments that were made in his hearing. Dirhael was greeted by a woman he assumed to be his wife and what looked to be a daughter and granddaughter. He stood for a moment, at a bit of a loss as to what to do next until Halbarad hailed him. The young Man stood with his family, who had come out to greet him. 

 

“Taurion, come meet my parents!” Legolas made his way over to the young Man, feeling more unsure of himself than he had since he came of age. He responded to Halbarad's parents' greeting diffidently, answering their questions as best he could without giving his identity away.

 

“Have you a place to stay, Master Taurion?” Areliel, Halbarad's mother asked. “You are welcome in our home and at our table.”

 

“Indeed you are,” Halbarad's father, Halboron affirmed. “Dirhael said that Master Elrond sent you to us.”

 

“My lord king sent me. Master Elrond pointed me in the correct direction and gave me the means to prove my intentions,” Legolas corrected mildly. “For which I will always be grateful.” He gave Areliel a shy smile. “I would not impose on you, Mistress Areliel. The loft of a barn is good enough for the likes of me.”

 

“Nonsense! The loft opposite where Halbarad sleeps is vacant since our daughter married. You're welcome to use it. And you'll sup with us.”

 

“I am honored, thank you.” He gave her the slight, respectful bow that was considered good manners among his people, it would have to suffice until he learned what the proper response might be according to Dunedain custom. Apparently, his response was acceptable because both Halboron and Areliel smiled broadly and beckoned him along with them as they left for their home, Halbarad in tow.

 

“Taurion!” Dirhael called after him. He paused, turning to the Man. “Come see me at the council house after you have your dinner and we'll decide what to best do with you.” He nodded, giving the same bow to Dirhael that he had to Halbarad's parents and quickened his pace to catch up to them.

 

Ooo

 

 

“He's a shy one, is Taurion,” Areliel commented. “Nice manners, but not a lot to say.”

 

“He listens more than he talks, but he's got some good stories once he gets to know you,” Halbarad said, munching on a slice of apple. “Dirhael thinks he's fairly young for an elf. I like him. He doesn't shirk. Pitches in to do whatever needs doing, whether he knows how or not, and he'll ask how if he doesn't know.”

 

“There's a lot to be said for listening rather than talking,” Halboron put in, stirring the coals before settling the large kettle over them. “Many never learn that lesson.”

 

“Well, he's the best with a bow that I've ever seen, including the sons of Elrond. I asked him to give me some pointers when he has time,” Halbarad said, finishing his apple and stretching contentedly.

 

“That may well be what Dirhael assigns him. We're not bad hands with our bows, but from what I've heard, there are none better than the elves of Mirkwood. We could all benefit from his knowledge and experience.”

 

ooo

 

 

“I'm acting chieftain only, you understand. Only until our true chieftain is old enough and experienced enough to take on the role. He's on patrol right now, and will be for awhile yet, or I'd ask him what he makes of you. As it stands, you've done well in spite of your limited experience. You're definitely the best with a bow that I've seen, so I think we'll start there: having you teach the next group coming up. You'll also patrol when needed, stand guard when needed, and generally help out as you've been doing. Acceptable?”

 

“That is more than acceptable, thank you. I shall do my best, as always,” Legolas said gravely.  
“Dirhael, Master Elrond did not just advise me on which direction to travel. He also advised me that I must carefully guard certain information about myself. You are acting chieftain, you need to know who I truly am. As for anyone else, the less they know, the less they can be made to tell.”

 

“Ah. I wondered. You are King Thranduil's son, are you not?”

 

“Yes. I am Legolas Thranduilion.” Legolas smiled wryly, “How long have you suspected?”

 

“Almost from the first. Kings don't generally take that much of an interest in archers, even archers of noble birth. I also know of your relation to Master Elrond's lady wife. It makes sense that he would vouch for you.”

 

“My lord father did send me to you. He was acquainted with your late chieftain, Arathorn. He tells me that Arathorn was a good man. Such praise is rare for my lord father.”

 

“Arathorn told me once that King Thranduil knew the value of being underestimated. So, I think, does his son.”

 

“Not entirely,” Legolas replied with a short laugh. “I was not dissembling when I asked to be taught.”

 

“Nay, I know you weren't. You've been sheltered more than you should have been, even for an elven prince. Judging by what Arathorn said of your father, I'd be willing to bet that's at least half the reason he sent you here. I'm not going to voice my opinion on the other half. Master Elrond respects and trusts both you and your father and he's never yet been wrong. That's enough for me. Stay with Halboron for now. We'll sort out your living arrangements later.” Recognizing dismissal when he heard it, Legolas merely rose and bowed before seeing himself out and heading back to Halboron's home.

 

Upon arriving there, he stood for a moment, settling himself before opening the door. Areliel looked up from the garment she was mending with a smile. Halboron was lifting the kettle from its place over the coals and pouring the now steaming water within it into a smaller container. The scent of dried herbs and fruit met his nose then and he realized that it was some sort of tea that Halboron was brewing. Halbarad sat on a stool by the fire, carving a piece of wood. He grinned at Legolas when the elf came in and turned his attention back to his task.

 

“Dirhael get you sorted out?” Halboron asked, settling back into his chair while the tea brewed.

 

“I believe so, “ Legolas replied. “I am to provide archery instruction, aid on patrols, and stand guard among other tasks.”

 

“We'll keep you busy,” Halboron said with a chuckle. “Always more to do than there are hands to do it.”

 

“Such seems to be the case in every realm,” the elf agreed with good humor. “What are you brewing?”

 

“A type of tea that I brought back from the Shire. Hobbits are especially good at food and drink.”

 

“So I noted while we were there,” Legolas said with a chuckle. “Halbarad introduced me to their seed cakes.”

 

“Well, we haven't any seed cakes but we have the tea and some apples,” Areliel stated with a smile, handing him a plate of apples slices. He returned the smile, accepting the plate and thanking her. Halboron handed him a mug of the tea with a dollop of honey added to it. Legolas sank down to sit tailor fashion beside the hearth, balancing his plate on his knee. Areiel made to protest but he shook his head, smiling.

 

“Nay, Mistress Areliel. I am comfortable here. Do not bestir yourself.”

 

They passed the next hour in quiet conversation until Halboron and Halbarad went to see to the animals. Legolas elected to help Areliel clean up from their tea and apples, despite her protests that he need not.

 

“Elves see such things differently than Men do. Among my people, males may cook and clean and females may fight and guard. Gender matters less than ability.” Legolas said, drying a dish and handing it to Areliel. “As I am yet unwed, being able to do all of those tasks will serve me in good stead.”

 

“Halbarad told us that you approach everything as if you are being tested on the results. Is that just you, or is that common among your folk?”

 

“That is just me, Mistress Areliel,” he replied with a laugh. “I have always been so.” He dried the last dish and handed it to her. “What else may I assist you with?”

 

“I think that's it unless you wish to learn how to repair my son's clothing,” she replied, chuckling, as she took her chair by the fire once more and picked up the garment she was repairing.

 

“Thankfully, that is something I am already well versed in,” Legolas said, resuming his place by the fire and picking up his quiver. He began sorting his arrows, separating those that were sound from those in need of repair. Once sorted, he fished his repair kit out of his pack and set to the repairs, singing softly as he did so. Halbarad and Halboron returned a few minutes later, the younger man settling next to Legolas.

 

“Will it bother you if I watch you do that, Taurion?”

 

“Not at all. If you wish, I will teach you how I do this. Your kindred may do it differently.”

 

“A bit, I think. Our arrows look different, anyway.” He accepted an arrow from Legolas and the elf began to explain each step as he did it, slowly and patiently walking Halbarad through each task. Halboron looked on with interest from his chair. Once the arrows were repaired to Legolas' satisfaction, the elf stowed them back in his quiver and returned his kit to his pack.

 

“About time to head to bed. Morning comes early,” Halboron said, standing and stretching. Halbarad rose and kissed his mother's cheek before heading to the ladder to the loft. Legolas rose as well, shouldering his pack and quiver and bade his hosts good night before following Halbarad.

 

 

Ooo

 

 

“Through that curtain, Taurion. Here's a lantern if you need one.” Halbarad lit the lantern and handed it to Legolas before lighting one for himself. “Good night.”

 

“Thank you. Good night,” Legolas replied, accepting the lantern, though he truly did not need it, and lifting the curtain aside so he could pass through the doorway. The room was small, occupied by only a bed, a small chest at the foot of the bed and a stand that held a pitcher and wash basin. There was a window in the slanted roof, he was relieved to note. Placing his belongings next to the chest and the lantern on the wash stand, he crossed to the window, having to stoop as he neared it. The latch was simple, and in good repair. He opened the window and looked out, grinning when he realized that he could easily access the roof. He ducked into the room again long enough to remove his boots and tunic before exiting out onto the roof in his shirt and breeches. 

 

Settling himself comfortably, he gazed up at the stars with a sigh. It had been an eventful day and while he was very grateful for the welcome and hospitality given him, he was glad to have some time to himself. He allowed himself, for the first time in several days, to wonder how his father and Tauriel were doing. He fervently hoped that Tauriel would decide to remain. Thranduil had said that he would help her in any way he could, but that the decision was ultimately hers. He had remained largely because he had had Legolas to raise and a kingdom to care for. Tauriel had no blood family left to her, no one but Thranduil and Legolas. His father had made it plain that having so few ties would make it harder for Tauriel. Legolas felt a stab of guilt at his departure, but Thranduil had told him bluntly that there was little he could do for Tauriel. If she faded, his presence would make little difference. Intellectually, he knew his father was right. He sighed. It would be best if he slept rather than gazed at the stars all night. It had been long enough since he had truly slept that he would suffer if he did not. Reluctantly, he climbed back through the window and settled into the bed, shifting until he felt comfortable enough to drift into reverie.

 

 

Ooo

 

 

Legolas settled into his routine at the Angle with an ease that surprised even him. Teaching archery brought him a satisfaction he never would have expected, and with it came a small measure of peace. He still worried for Tauriel and his father, but he found that he was able to put his worry in the back of his mind while attending to his new duties. 

 

True to his word, Dirhael did address Legolas' living arrangements a week into his sojourn at the settlement. Unmarried males among the Dunedain either stayed with their parents until they built their own lodgings either before beginning courtship of a potential mate or before wedding an intended mate or until they felt the need to be on their own, the latter being the rarer of the two. Once on their own, they had the option of continuing to take meals with their families or, if they so chose or if they had no families, food was always available at the council house. The widows among the Dunedain, and there were many of these to Legolas' dismay, took turns preparing communal meals in exchange for the unmarried males' assistance with chores that their late spouses would have performed. It was a very effective system, and not unlike something Thranduil had set up following his return from the Last Alliance. 

 

The elf, not wishing to be a burden to Halboron and his family, elected to move into an unoccupied bachelor's home, the builder of which had not returned from patrol some months before. He still occasionally took meals with Halboron's family, and he always brought something to the table when he did so, but he also willingly pitched to assist the community's widows as well.

 

The widow to whom he was assigned was a woman with one grown son who was frequently out on patrol and whose husband had died many years before. The widows among the Dunedian, Legolas discovered, were permitted to remarry as was common among other groups of Men but only about half of them did so. He speculated that it was their heritage that made so many of them reluctant to remarry, but he did not wish to be rude and ask. It was several days later that he discovered that the widow he was assigned to was the elder of Dirhael's two daughters, Gilraen.

 

 

Ooo

 

 

“Good morning, my lady,” Legolas greeted Gilraen as she exited her house. He was stacking the firewood he had just chopped under the over hang next to her front door.

 

“Good morning, Taurion. Have you had breakfast yet?”

 

“Mistress Areliel sent Halbarad over with a basket this morning. I have been well cared for.” He grinned at her.

 

“Hmm, it's those dimples of yours. No sane woman could resist,” she teased. He laughed and handed her a sack.

 

“Roots and some herbs for you, my lady. I thought you might be able to use them.”

 

“And so I can, Ah, you brought me athelas! My son will appreciate that when he returns.” She set the bag inside the door and picked up her broom. He wisely moved to the other end of the woodpile, giving her room to work.

 

“Your son is a healer?”

 

“Among other things, yes. Estel has many talents, not the least of which has always been turning his mother's hair white with his antics,” she answered, her love for her son evident in her tone.

 

“So my father has always said of me,” Legolas said, chuckling. “My mother, I think, might well have been right alongside me. She was a Wood Elf, after all, and was much younger than my father.”

 

“Do you remember her well?” He shook his head.

 

“Very little, I am afraid. I was very young when she died, only just beginning to walk and talk. I remember small things, like a lullaby she would sing to me, but not much more.” He gave her a sad, sweet smile. “My father has been both parents to me for almost as long as I can recall.”

 

“Well, I think he did a fine job of it,” she said, reaching out and patting his arm. “Do you have patrol today?”

 

“Yes. I am to meet Halboron and Durion at the council house as soon as I am finished here.” He stacked the last of the wood as he spoke. "Is there anything else I can do for you before I leave?”

 

“No, I think I can manage from here. Thank you, Taurion. I appreciate all your help.”

 

“I am honored, my lady.” She grinned and shook her head.

 

“I think you must break hearts throughout the Greenwood and Rivendell, Master Taurion.” Her grin told him she was teasing him again and he laughed.

 

“Not that I am aware of, my lady. I am young, as elves go. Most of the maidens I know used to help care for me when I was a child. I find that it rather limits such affections when the available maidens used to be among those who changed one's baby clouts.” He grinned at the laughter that erupted from her and bade her farewell.

 

 

Ooo

 

 

Legolas made his way down to the stream, dirty bowls, spoons and the cook pot in his hands. He bent to his task, his senses trained on his surroundings. They had seen evidence of orc activity in the last few days and he did not wish to be caught unawares. Making short work of the dishes, he rose and gathered them up, heading back towards the camp. As he did so, the birds and insects suddenly fell silent and the hair on the back of his neck stood up. He froze, eyes searching the brush around him and nostrils flaring. He could neither smell nor see anything, but he was certain that orcs were nearby. Silently, he crouched and began to quicken his pace. The feeling of alarm lessened the closer he got to camp, for which he was grateful as it likely meant that the orcs were unaware of the presence of the Dunedain. Gaining the camp, he quickly kicked dirt over the fire, extinguishing it. Halboron stood, hand on his sword hilt.

 

“Orcs,” Legolas hissed, keeping his voice low enough not to be heard outside the camp. “I do not think they know we are here yet, but they will soon.”

 

“How many?” Halboron asked, quickly packing the dishes and rolling both his and Durion's bedrolls.

 

“I know not. I sensed their presence but have not yet seen them. They may be across the stream. I hope so.”

 

“Durion went to scout. I hope he doesn't run into them.” Both their heads turned as a twig snapped just outside the camp. Legolas had an arrow notched and aimed before the sound faded. A bird call that was not made by a bird sounded and Legolas lowered his arrow as Durion emerged from behind a small tree.

 

“Orcs. About twenty of them that I saw, camped across the stream and getting ready to head this way,” Durion said tersely.

 

“We aren't in a good place to fight off twenty,” Halboron said. “Better to head to the East. If we're lucky, we'll be able to circle around behind them and start picking them off when they go to ground for the day.”

 

“They will pick up our scent, if they have not already,” Legolas pointed out. “It might be wiser for me to lay a false trail and lead them off.”

 

“What are you going to do, piss on trees for the next couple of leagues?” Durion snorted. “That might work.”

 

“It has proven effective in the past,” Legolas replied with a smirk. “Whatever we do, we must do soon.”

 

“All right. Taurion, you lay that trail. Halboron and I will head for that abandoned farm we passed on the way out here. We meet back up there. Be careful, Taurion. I don't want to have to explain to a pissed off elven father how I let his son get his ass shot full of orc arrows while he was pissing on trees.” Legolas gave an amused snort and nodded. The men gathered their gear and headed off. As soon as he was certain they were gone, Legolas began laying the false trail.

 

 

Ooo

 

 

The orcs were close enough that he could smell them when Legolas began to circle around to meet up with his Dunedain companions. He had played cat and mouse with the foul creatures for the better part of the night. It was now less than two hours before sunrise. He fervently hoped that their ruse had been successful.

 

Making use of the trees that he had led the orcs into, Legolas fairly flew over their heads as only one raised as a Wood Elf could. Getting clear of their scouts, he reached the edge of the wooded area and dropped soundlessly to the ground. He ran lightly over the grass, changing direction every so often just in case he was followed. 

 

Just as the sun cleared the tops of the hills, he neared the farm. The homestead's roof had partially fallen in, but it still made for better shelter than the bough of a tree in the Men's opinions if not in Legolas'. He approached silently, listening for any sign that there had been trouble. He heard nothing so he went to the doorway and peered cautiously around it. Halboron was sitting propped up on the remains of the bed, head leaning against the wall, a rough bandage wrapped around his upper thigh. There was no sign of Durion. Quickly ascertaining that there were no orcs or other enemies around, Legolas approached Halboron. The Man's eyes snapped open as soon as the elf touched him, but Legolas had taken care to disarm him.

 

“Taurion! Durion is dead. I had to leave him, about three leagues back. The orcs split into two groups.” Legolas grimaced, pushing his grief for the Man who had become a friend to the back of his mind.

 

“You had no choice, Halboron. He knows that. We all know the risk we take. When were you injured?” With practiced hands, the elf unwrapped the wound, checking it and frowning at what he saw.

 

“At the same time they killed Durion. It was an ambush.”

 

“Then you are fortunate that you made it here. I need to tend your wound and then we need to put some more distance between us and those orcs. Where is the nearest town or Ranger outpost?”He grabbed his water skin, taking the calculated risk that he would be able to find more water before they ran out. He cleansed the wound, packed it with healing herbs and stitched it before rebandaging it.

 

“Ten leagues East in the hills. It will not be easy. You should leave me.” Legolas spat the vilest oath he knew.

 

“Do not suggest that to me again, ever. I will carry you if I must.”

 

“Taurion,...”

 

“No.” Quickly, he sorted through their belongings, taking only what could be carried easily, only the bare necessities. “Come,” he said, getting his shoulder under Halboron's arm. “We must leave now.”

 

 

TBC


	3. Ch 3

Title: Go North ch3  
Author: sheraiah  
Rating: PG  
Warnings: Violence, character death (minor, o/c, canon and past tense)

 

A/N: Well, my lovelies, I'm on a roll it seems. Let's see where this journey takes us, hmmm?

 

 

Ooo

 

 

Legolas shifted Halboron's weight slightly before continuing down the path. The Man had been fevered and unconscious for the last several hours, adding to the elf's worries. He would have to stop long enough to clean and tend Halboron's wound as soon as the sun was high enough that he was unlikely to run into orcs.

 

They had been dodging the orcs since they had left the farm house four days earlier, Legolas using every trick he knew to throw the foul creatures off their trail and keep himself and Halboron alive, He swore that as soon as he got his companion to safety, he would backtrack and give this particular band of orcs a taste of what angering one of the House of Oropher really meant.

 

'The foul things have already cut us off from the outpost Halboron intended us to make for,' the elf thought sourly. 'I have no choice but to make for the Angle.'

 

He set his companion down by a small stream and tended his wound as soon as the sun was high enough. Halboron's leg was inflamed but looked better than it had the evening before. The Ranger woke enough to take some water and some hardtack before lapsing into unconsciousness once more. Legolas sighed, it was as he expected. He was strong, far stronger than a Man, but carrying Halboron slowed him down. It would likely be another day and a half at the least before they made it, if they were lucky. If they were very lucky, they would run into another patrol. Legolas had done a fair amount of praying to that effect in the last day or so.

 

He refilled his waterskin and Halboron's and ate a bit of hardtack before hauling Halboron over his shoulder once more and setting off.

 

 

Ooo

 

 

Legolas crouched as low as he could, shielding Halboron with his own body and mentally cursing the orcs that shuffled past their hiding place. This was the largest group he had seen, a dozen strong. Had he been alone, he might have considered starting to thin their numbers but he would not risk Halboron. He had heard wargs in the distance ahead of them and feared that this group was heading to meet up with a larger pack. He only hoped that they could remain concealed until the orcs passed, then circle around them and make for the Angle.He estimated that the stronghold was no more than six leagues North of their current position. Dirhael needed to know about the orc activity.

 

Remaining still until the last of the stragglers passed, Legolas hefted Halboron again and moved as swiftly as he dared in the direction of the Angle. The time for subtlety was now passed. Hopefully, the orc's trail would conceal his.

 

Keeping to the trees as much as possible, Legolas traveled through the night and well into the next day before stopping again. He checked Halboron's wound and was pleased to see it looking better. Halboron roused, and took in more water and food than he had been able the previous day. The elf was relieved to see lucidity in the Man's eyes once again, and his fever was much lessened. He was able to walk for awhile with Legolas' assistance when they resumed their trek.

 

 

Ooo

 

 

“That's the fourth group that's passed us,” Halboron whispered. “I have never seen so many orcs this close to the Angle.”

 

“There is purpose behind this, I am sure of it. Dirhael must be told.”

 

“Agreed. We just have to stay alive long enough to tell him.”

 

They cautiously emerged from their hiding place, Legolas lending support to the still ailing Halboron. The companions continued to keep to the shadows, leaving as little sign of their passing as possible. A couple of hours later, the elf cocked his head, listening.

 

“I hear horses,” he said softly.

 

“This close to the Angle, it's likely Rangers but better safe than sorry,” Halboron whispered, weariness patent in his voice.

 

“Agreed, Friend Halboron. The bushes on our left should conceal us.” Legolas quickly got Halboron settled and doubled back to erase any track they had left before sinking down next to his companion. Soon, Halboron could hear the horses approaching.

 

“More orc sign, Brother,” a melodious voice stated.

 

“Too much,” an almost identical voice agreed. “Estel, I have never seen so much orc sign this far North. We must be cautious.”

 

“We must wonder for what purpose. I do not doubt that there is one,” a third voice stated.

 

“The less said of that out here the better, pen neth,” the first voice rebuked.

 

“Stop for a moment,” the third voice said. A pause, and then, “A Man with an injured leg has passed this way. See, here?”

 

“Yes,” the first voice agreed.

 

“And here, do you see what I see?” the third voice asked. A soft curse.

 

“Yes an elf's print, and more than that, I know who made it!” the first voice exclaimed. “We have no way of knowing how long ago they passed this way.”

 

“Not so very long ago, my friend,” Legolas said mildly, rising from where he had circled around to stand behind the riders. All three, who had dismounted, whirled at the sound of his voice.

 

“You mad, reckless, idiot!” Elladan exclaimed, crossing the distance between them to cuff Legolas on the ear before embracing him. “What were you thinking?”

 

“Or were you thinking at all?”Elrohir growled, cuffing the other ear before likewise embracing Legolas.

 

“I was thinking that Halboron needs a healer,” Legolas said, scowling and rubbing both ears.

 

“Where is he?” asked the young Man traveling with the twins. “Halboron is my cousin.”

 

“This way,” Legolas said, leading them.

 

 

Ooo

 

 

“Your leg is on the mend, cousin,” the young man Estel said, tying the fresh bandage.

 

“Thank Taurion for that,” Halboron said. “He's kept me alive these last few days. Refused to leave me behind, even though he would have been wiser to.”

 

“You would not have left him, had your positions been reversed, cousin,”

 

“Nay, I know. I only left Durion after I was certain he was dead.” He ran a hand through his hair. “What now?”

 

“Now.” Elladan said, “We get the two of you to the stronghold.” He rose and helped Halboron to his feet. “You will ride with me. Taurion can ride with Elrohir.”

 

“Ware! We have tarried too long. The orcs have caught our scent!” Legolas cried, running from the direction in which he had been scouting. “Now is the time for haste.”

 

“Then let us make haste.” Elladan lifted Halboron onto his horse, mounting behind him. Estel was in the saddle a heartbeat later. Elrohir mounted and wheeled his steed around, reaching out a hand to Legolas, who jumped up behind him. They set off at a gallop, all pretense at stealth gone.

 

They broke through the trees, their speed increasing as the country opened up ahead of them. Behind, they could hear the howls of wargs. Legolas looked back and swore.

 

“Warg riders, with bows!”

 

“Let's hope their aim is as poor as usual!” Elrohir replied.

 

“I hate it when you do that,” Legolas growled, stringing his bow and taking aim at the closest warg. His accuracy, responsible for the rapid demise of three of the wargs, succeeded in backing the pursuit off a bit. As the familiar walls of the Angle drew near Legolas' arrows, now nearly spent, were joined by the arrows of the Dunedain archers stationed on the walls. The orcs broke off their pursuit and turned tail, fleeing back the way they had come. The gates were opened and the three horses and their riders passed through them at a canter, the gates closing swiftly as soon as they were safely inside. Elladan handed Halboron down to Dirhael, who steadied him until Estel could help him into the council house. Elrohir helped Legolas down and then both twins dismounted, handing their horses and Estel's off to the young boys waiting to lead them to the stables.

 

“What happened?” Dirhael asked.

 

“We ran into a large pack of orcs just East of the Road,” Legolas said. “I tried to lay a false trail and lead them off but the group split and some followed Halboron and Durion. They killed Durion and injured Halboron before I caught back up to them. We have been making our way back since then, almost a week now, and have been dodging orc packs every step of the way.” Dirhael exhaled, running a hand through his hair.

 

“Damn. No, Taurion, it wasn't your fault. It was a good plan, and probably the best thing the three of you could have done. I'll go tell Durion's wife and sons. You go let Elladan and Elrohir look you over and get some food and rest. We'll talk more later.”

 

“Halboron?” Areliel came running up, her son by her side. “I was told that my husband is injured.”

 

“In the council house, Areliel. Estel is with him.” Dirhael clapped Halbarad on the shoulder, gave Legolas a pointed look and nodded towards the twins and then set off towards Durion's home. Areliel flew through the door of the council house and Halbarad turned to Legolas.

 

“How badly was he hurt?”

 

“An arrow to his thigh. He is on the mend, Halbarad. He will be well,” Legolas said, unstringing his bow and shrugging out of his quiver. Halbarad sagged with relief and Legolas offered him a slight smile. He grieved Durion's death, but was very glad that Halboron had made it home to his family.

 

“Come into the council house, Taurion,” Elladan said, placing a slight emphasis on Legolas' alias. “The sooner we have a look at you, the sooner you can put some food in that skinny, Wood Elf body of yours.” Out of habit, Legolas responded with a gesture that, among the archers of Mirkwood, was considered extremely rude.

 

“Shame on you, Taurion, teaching young Halbarad your bad habits!” Elrohir jibed, causing jaws to drop all around them. The sons of Elrond were typically grim and not prone to jokes, in the experience of the Dunedain.

 

“Oh, shut it, you insufferable Noldor prat,” Legolas shot back. “I will be right there.”

 

“Well, that is gratitude for you, Brother. We pull his fat from the fire and this is the thanks we get,” Elrohir smirked at his twin.

 

“As I recall, that was merely just payment for a certain incident with some eight-legged trespassers whilst you were visiting my home a few decades ago,” Legolas said sweetly. “Go torment your companion. I will be along presently.” Elladan gave a bark of a laugh.

 

“Careful, Taurion, I believe you have shocked poor Halbarad. You have been on your best behavior, have you not?” The twins turned and entered the council house.

 

“What did you just call him?” Halbarad asked.

 

“Insufferable Noldor prat,” Legolas replied firmly, a grin pulling at the corner of his mouth. “He is not, truly, of course. We merely enjoy twitting each other.” He chuckled at the expression on the young Man's face. “I have known Master Elrond's sons since I was a babe. We have always behaved thus with each other.”

 

“I can take your things to your house for you, Master Taurion,” a young boy who was one of Legolas' archery students piped up.

 

“Thank you, Aris.” Legolas handed his pack, bow and quiver to the boy who grinned and took off running. Legolas turned toward the council house, swaying suddenly on his feet. Halbarad steadied him.

 

“Are you all right?” the young man asked, concern plain on his face.

 

“No, I think perhaps I am not,” Legolas said, gripping Halbarad's shoulder as his knees buckled. His last conscious thought was that Elladan and Elrohir would never let him hear the end of it for fainting as Halbarad caught him, hefted him and began to carry him into the council house, shouting for help.

 

 

Ooo

 

 

“Taurion!” Halbarad caught the elf as he slumped, and shifted him into a bridal carry quickly before heading into the council house. 

 

“Halbarad, what happened?” Gilraen appeared at his elbow.

 

“I don't know! He was fine, joking with Elladan and Elrohir and then he just fell over.” Halbarad said, fear making his tone sharp.

 

“Is Estel with the twins?”

 

“Yes, my lady. He's looking after my father.” Gilraen patted his arm. 

 

“Let's get Master Taurion inside and get him seen to. I'm sure you're wanting to see your father as well.”

 

“After I make sure Taurion's all right. I'm pretty sure he saved my father's life.”

 

 

ooo

 

“Elladan, Elrohir!” Gilraen called as she guided Halbarad toward a table. “Halbarad, lay him down here.”

 

“What happened?” Elladan exclaimed, rushing to Gilraen's side.

 

“He was talking and he just collapsed,” Halbarad said.

 

“Help me get his cloak and tunic off. We need to check him for wounds.” Elladan unfastened the cloak and the tunic, easing the elf's arms out of the sleeves and lifting him to remove the tunic.

 

“Here, Elladan. There's blood on his shirt,” Gilraen said. “Best we cut the shirt off, it's ruined anyway.” She pulled a pair of shears from her pocket and slit the sides of Legolas' shirt, then slit the sleeves and lifted it off of him. “I see a broken arrow shaft. The arrowhead looks like it may be lodged in a rib. I wonder that he didn't feel it.”

 

“He may well have known it was there, the idiot,” Elladan ground out. “And did not tell us because he felt Halboron's need to be greater than his.”

 

“Be fair, Brother. He might well not have felt the wound. You know how he gets,” Elrohir chided, joining his brother, steaming bowl of water and bandages in his hands. “Estel, we may need you as soon as you are finished with Halboron. Now, let us see what we have.”

 

“We need a bit more light, for a start,” Elladan said. “Halbarad, can you light a couple more lanterns, please.” The young man quickly did as he was told.

 

“Brother, look at the shaft of the arrow,” Elrohir's voice was hushed.

 

“I see it,” Elladan replied in a clipped tone. “Gilraen, we will need the poison kit. And some athelas, if you have it.”

“I do. He brought me some before he left on patrol. I will be right back.”

 

“Elladan, what do you need me to do?” Estel asked.

 

“Hold his shoulders down. Halbarad, hold his legs. I'm going to get that cursed arrow out and then clean the wound. Estel, we'll need your help again when your mother gets back with the athelas.”

 

“Of course,” the young man said. “You might want to sit on his legs, cousin. Elves are a lot stronger than they look.”

 

“I can help as well,” Halboron said, hobbling over to sit opposite his son and draping his upper body over Legolas' legs.

 

“My thanks, this will not be pleasant,” the elder twin stated, washing the blood from the wound. He wrapped a cloth around the shaft of the arrow and gave a hard yank. Legolas' body jerked and he cried out. “It is stuck in the rib. Brother, hand me..”

“This, yes..” Elrohir said, placing the instrument into his brother's hand. Gilraen entered the building. Dirhael a step behind her.

 

“What happened?”

“He has an arrow lodged in his rib. Dirhael, bolt the door and come take Estel's place. Estel, prepare the athelas. We will need it. Gilraen, you know the remedy for blackroot poison, do you not?” Elladan latched the instrument around the shaft of the arrow.

 

“Yes, Elladan, I do. I will prepare it,” Gilraen moved to the hearth. Elladan took a deep breath and pulled on the instrument, hard. Legolas writhed, screaming.

 

“”Hold him! Hold...curse it! The shaft broke off.” He glanced at Elrohir. “We will have to cut to get an adequate grip on the arrowhead. And we will likely have to break the rib.”

 

“Then we must,” Elrohir said steadily. “I will assist you.” He laid out a clean cloth and laid several instruments out upon it. “The knife, Brother.” He handed the small blade to Elladan and blotted away the blood with clean cloths as Elladan worked.

 

“I see it,” the elder twin said. He clamped the first instrument onto the arrowhead. “On three. One.. two..three!” He pulled again and Legolas writhed again, screaming. “Come on, cursed thing! Ah!” He pulled the arrowhead free. “Thank the Valar! It is in one piece and I did not have to break the rib.”

 

“Elladan, here is the mixture.” Gilraen held a small pot.

 

“We will pack the wound with it, and then give him the tea,” the elder twin said, cleaning his hands again before suiting action to words. Once the wound was packed, Elladan stitched it loosely and bandaged it. He sighed, helping his brother to turn Legolas onto his side before looking around the room. “You are all sworn to secrecy about what you are about to hear. Dirhael, I imagine he told you when he arrived.”

 

“He did,” Dirhael confirmed. “And I'd just as soon not have make any explanations to King Thranduil if it's all the same to you.”

 

“Nor do we,” Elrohir said, “aside from the fact that we are very fond of this reckless young elf in his own right.”

 

“And aside from the fact that he is our cousin,” Elladan said, frowning at his twin. “Estel, when you call him back, you must call him by his true name. He is Legolas.” Estel nodded and breathed on the athelas before adding it to the bowl of hot water. He laid his hand on Legolas' cheek and began calling the elf back. “Our father thought it best that Legolas conceal his identity from all but those who truly needed to know. What one does not know, one cannot be made to tell. We must remember to call him Taurion still.”

 

“He's the king's son?” Areliel asked, her cheeks pinking. “King Thranduil's son insisted on helping me wash dirty dishes,” she said faintly. Elrohir snorted.

 

“Did he really?” He looked down at the prince, who was beginning to stir. “Good on you, tithen ernil.”

 

“Legolas, come back to us now,” Estel said, stroking back from the elf's face the hair that had come loose from his braids. “Come back now.” Legolas drew a deep breath, which caught as his wounds were shifted and he groaned, trying to curl into a fetal position.

 

“No, stay still, Legolas. You must stay still. “ Elrohir soothed, gently restraining him. Legolas' eyelashes fluttered and his eyes opened wide, darting from face to face around him until they landed on Elrohir and the tension seeped out of the elf's body.

 

“Elrohir? What...?”

 

“Lie still. You were struck by an arrow. You will be ill for some time yet.”

 

“”Poison?”

 

“Yes, cousin. Blackroot.”

 

“Elrohir?”

 

“Yes, cousin?”

 

“Kill those thrice damned orcs twice for me.” He swallowed thickly. “And twice more for Durion.” Elrohir grinned ferally at him.

 

“Always, cousin.”

 

“Elrohir?”

 

“Yes, pen neth?”

 

“Move. Going to vomit.” Elrohir rolled him forward to the edge of the table while Estel swiftly grabbed a large basin and held it under the beleaguered elf's head. Areliel gathered Legolas' hair away from his face and held it while he retched. When he was done, Estel set the basin aside and wiped his mouth, offering a swig of water so he could rinse and then holding the basin again so he could spit. Elrohir eased him back onto his side and Legolas muttered something that made the younger twin laugh.

 

“Watch your language, pen neth. There are ladies present.”

 

“Never you mind, Taurion. Both Gilraen and I have heard worse,” Areliel said, smoothing his hair. 

 

“Indeed we have,” Gilraen confirmed, shooting a pointed glance at her father. “Let's see if we can get some of this tea into you. If you can manage to keep it down, you will start to feel better.”

 

 

TBC


	4. 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Legolas recovers from his wounds and life continues with the Dunedain.

Title: Go North ch 4  
Author: sheraiah  
Rating: PG  
Warnings: Violence, character death ( canon past tense, oc), questionable humor

 

A/N: Just as an FYI, in my headcanon, Thranduil's paternal grandmother and Celeborn's father were siblings. That's why Elladan and Elrohir call Legolas cousin. This is NOT canon at all. Another piece of my headcanon that's relevant is that I see Legolas as being very young, as in somewhere between 400 and 900 years old. Again, this is not canon. Tolkien never actually gives a birth date for Legolas and the age PJ & company gave is actually Aragorn's birth date so in essence, they pulled an age for him out of their collective asses. There are some excellent essays on the subject on which I base my own views on the subject.. I list URLs for them in the author notes of another of my fics: Out of Space and Time. If anyone's really interested in reading them, PM me and I'll point you towards them or they do come up when you Google the subject.

 

 

 

Ooo

 

 

Legolas shifted, gasping when he jarred his wound. A hand grasped his shoulder, holding him still.

 

“Easy, do not try to move,” the quiet, deep voice said. Belatedly, Legolas realized his eyes were closed. He struggled to open them, the lids felt as if they were made of stone. “Wait a moment.” A soft, wet cloth was gently wiped over each eyelid. “Now try to open them.” To his surprise, his eyes opened easily. 

 

The dimly lit room was unfamiliar to him. The only source of light was the fire , which had burned down almost to coals. He lay on a pallet near the hearth, his companion sitting tailor fashion between the hearth and Legolas.

 

“Where am I?” He coughed, choked and curled in on himself as his wound protested the movement.

 

“Easy! Slow breaths, keep your torso as straight as you can. That's it, easy.” The Man laid one hand between the elf's shoulder blades and the other on his chest. “Easy, breathe slowly but not too deeply. That's it. Good.” He fussed with the bandage for a moment. “Good, you did not reopen the wound. How does your stomach feel? Do you still feel sick?”

 

“No, thirsty.”

 

“Good. Here, have a sip of water.” He held a cup to Legolas' lips. “Only a small sip. There, very good. We will see how that settles.” The Man set the cup down. “Now, to answer your question, you are in my mother's house. Gilraen's house.”

 

“Estel?”

 

“Yes, good, you do remember.” He laid his hand on Legolas' forehead and then on his cheek. “You have had us worried.”

 

“Halboron?”

 

“He is recovering well. You did a fine job of tending to his injury. He will always walk with a limp, but has the leg still thanks to you.” Estel picked up the cup again. “Would you like another sip?” He held it to Legolas' lips again, allowing the elf to take a slightly bigger drink than before. “Rest now and we will try some broth when you wake again.” The Man placed his hand lightly on Legolas' shoulder and the elf sighed, allowing his eyes to close once more.

 

 

Ooo

 

 

 

“How is he?” Gilraen entered the main room of her cottage from her bedroom, closing the door quietly behind her.

 

“Better. He woke a little while ago and was able to take some water. It is a good sign.” Estel laid a gentle hand on Legolas' brow. “His fever has lessened.” 

 

“Did Elladan and Elrohir go to get some rest?”

 

“Yes, just after midnight when his fever broke the first time. They should be returning soon.” Estel stretched his back.

 

“You should rest when they do.” She moved to the cupboards in the front corner of the cottage. “I had best prepare some breakfast for all of us, and something that Taurion might manage as well.”

 

“Broth would be best,” her son said. “I can prepare that, if you wish.”

 

“No, I can. You have enough to do tending to him.” She smiled at her son. “Truthfully, I am glad to be able to do something for him. He has been a tremendous help to me.” She shook her head. “I never would have guessed from his manner that he was a king's son. He's very humble.”

 

“We really know very little about what life is like in the Woodland Realm. Those who may know more of it in Imladris are remarkably closed-mouthed,” Estel commented, laying a cool, wet cloth on Legolas' brow.

 

“That is because King Thranduil would rather be underestimated,” Elladan said as he passed through the door, his twin in his wake. Elrohir shut the door behind them and handed Gilraen the cloth sack he was carrying.

 

“Fresh bread from Areliel. I believe it is her holiday bread.” He glanced at Estel. “How is he?”

 

“Better. His fever is less and he woke for awhile and was lucid.”

 

“Good.” Elladan sat down on the floor by Legolas' head. “King Thranduil is a very strong, very stubborn elf. He has held his realm together through war, famine, the loss of 2/3 of it's warriors and through the loss of his queen and has done so with only his own determination and that of his people.”

 

“You respect him greatly,” the young Man commented.

 

“Yes, I do. In no small part because I met him in happier days and remember fondly how he allowed Elrohir and I as small elflings to climb into his lap and be given sweets when our Naneth was not looking and stories when she was.”

 

“We also,” Elrohir added as he sat next to his brother, “remember how he was with this young one when he was a small elfling. Do not for one moment think that he does not love his son more than life, more than his realm. Legolas is not one to rule a kingdom, and his father will not force him into a role for which he is unsuited.”

 

“Is that why he's here?” Gilraen asked, setting out the bread along with cheese and fruit preserves. She dropped a few meaty bones from the previous day's meal that she had kept in the cellar into a pot of water as a start for the broth along with a couple of roughly chopped root vegetables and some herbs.

 

“No. Why he is here is for him to say or not as he chooses. All I will say is that being here will be good for him.” Elladan removed the cloth from Legolas' brow, dipped it in the bowl of cool water, wrung the excess water out of it and laid it back on the young elf's forehead. “Estel, Elrohir and I will tend him now. Eat and then go rest.”

 

“Yes, Elder,” Estel replied with a grin, dodging the half-hearted cuff that Elladan aimed at his ear. “Wake me if his fever worsens.”

 

 

ooo

 

 

Legolas came to himself again with a sharp gasp, feeling strong hands restraining him. He tensed, his warrior's experience telling him to fight, when a soft voice by his head claimed his attention.

 

“Easy, pen neth. You are among friends and safe.” Legolas opened his eyes to see Elladan smiling down at him. “Do you know where you are?”

 

“Lady Gilraen's house,” the prince croaked.

 

“Here is water to soothe your throat,” Elrohir, who was kneeling between Legolas and the hearth, said, holding a cup to the prince's lips. Legolas took a small, cautious sip. “Better now?”

 

“Yes.” Legolas let the tension seep out of his body, relaxing and laying his head back onto the pillow. “How long have I been unconscious?”

 

“Two days. You have had us worried, cousin.” Elrohir laid the backs of his fingers on Legolas' brow. “Your fever is lessened. You are not out of danger yet, however. Do you think you might manage some broth?”

 

“I will try. I am thirsty rather than hungry.”

 

“I do not doubt it but your body needs fuel to heal. So long as it does not make you ill, broth would be best now.” Elrohir moved to the pot that hung over some banked coals and ladled a small amount of it's contents into a bowl. Settling back next to Legolas, he held a spoonful of broth to the prince's lips. “Let us see how this settles.” Legolas ate the broth without protest, knowing that not only would protest have been futile but he was not steady enough to manage the spoon himself.

 

“How is Halboron?”

 

“He is well. His days of patrolling are likely over but he has his leg and his life.” Elrohir set the bowl aside. “Let us see how that does before we try more.” He sat back on his heels. “We have a letter from your Adar, if you are feeling well enough to read it.”

 

“Yes, please. I have had no word from him since before I left Imladris.”

 

“Brother, if you will retrieve the letter, I will get us some more light,” Elladan said, reaching for the candle holder that sat on the corner of the hearth. Elrohir rose gracefully and fished the letter from the pack he had left by the door. He handed the letter to Legolas with a smile as his brother carefully helped Legolas to prop himself up with a folded quilt and a second pillow. The prince thanked them solemnly and broke the seal on Thranduil's letter.

 

My beloved son,

 

I hope this letter finds you well and with more peace of spirit than when we last were in each other's company. Elrond was kind enough to include a letter along with your last letter assuring me of your well being. I know well that you would have told me of anything important, but I appreciated his gesture. As he is a father as well, he knows the worries of a parent whose children, albeit grown, are absent from his presence.

Before you think to ask, Tauriel is as well as can be expected. She is eating, and I have endeavored to provide distractions to keep her busy enough not to dwell on her grief. From my own experience, I found that to be necessary. I dare not allow her to resume her tasks as a warrior as yet, knowing again from my own experience that she is likely to be reckless and disregard her safety in her desire to obliterate the creatures who robbed her of the one she loves. Her healing, if indeed it can be called such, will take much time and is largely up to her. I will provide such help as I can, as she will allow.

As for Dale, Bard is proving to be worthy of his line. Indeed, he reminds me greatly of Girion. We have provided as much as we can spare from our stores, and I have tasked Delion, Thalion, and Luinil to stay and hunt for the people of Dale. Bard has seen to the fair distribution of the stores and of the meat. He will likely lose a few of his people over the winter, but his actions will save the majority and that is the best that can be hoped for. He has a steadfast set of helpers in his two elder children, his eldest daughter in particular, and a source of comfort in his youngest. That young one is a delightful child, who could brighten the darkest day merely with her presence. I was completely charmed, I must admit.

Dain is proving to be an adept king. His manner is rough, but he is shrewd and he has been fair in his dealings with Bard, and with us I must concede. He has honored Thorin Oakenshield's original agreements with the people of Laketown and beyond. I can find no fault in his dealing with them, nor with our people. Time will tell, of course, but in my view he has already proven a far better king than his late predecessor. He has brought his heir, his son who is also called Thorin, to Erebor. The young one seems to be of a stoic and steadfast sort. He certainly has put an end to some foolishness that a few of the rowdier of the young warriors got up to after the dust of the battle settled. As much as I abhor the loss of life, particularly of Oakensheld's two young nephews, I believe Erebor will be fortunate in its current leadership.

Our people are also as well as can be expected, given the losses we took in the battle. I am ever thankful for the fortitude of Silvan elves. Once again, they have proven to be stronger than loss and grief and I am grateful for it. We will endure. 

And because Dol Goldur has been cleaned out, we have enough of a respite from orc incursions to finally deal a decisive blow to the spiders. We may even be able to reclaim some of the territory we have lost over the last couple of ennin. Not all of it, as we do not wish to spread our forces too thinly, but at least some of it. And we will again be able to patrol the Forest Road. I suppose I should thank our cousin and his Noldor wife for their aid in that. I have already thanked Elrond, Mithrandir and Aiwendil. Curunir, I trust not regardless of his assistance with the matter of Dol Goldur and prefer not to have dealings with.

As for myself, I am as I have always been though I miss your company and your counsel. However, I would not have you return until you are ready to do so. Be well, and return when you will.

 

Adar

 

Legolas smiled; he could almost hear Thranduil's voice speaking the words of his letter. He was glad to hear of home, but he would not be ready to return for some while yet, perhaps for some years. He folded the letter, and handed it back to Elrohir.

 

“Good news, I trust?” the younger twin asked.

 

“Yes, or at least as good as is possible.” Legolas relaxed back on his pillows. “I need to write back to him soon. He will know that I have been wounded and he will worry until he hears from me.”

 

“Our Adar does that too,” Elladan remarked. “We sent word to him of your wound and that you were recovering, which he will pass on to your Adar, but you are correct that hearing from you directly will assuage your Adar's cares.”

 

“Do you think you might be able to manage a bit more broth?” Elrohir asked.

 

“I think so, “ Legolas replied, allowing the younger twin to feed him again.

 

 

Ooo

 

 

Legolas eased himself down onto the bench outside Gilraen's house with a sigh. It had taken most of his energy to get himself out to the bench, but he was profoundly grateful to be outdoors. He had scowled when Estel insisted that he wear a cloak, but now that he was outside he was glad of it. The day was cool, there had been frost on the ground that morning, but the sun was out and it would likely be a fair day. He turned his face to the sun and simply sat, soaking in the relative warmth.

 

“It's good to see you up again, Taurion,” Areliel called as she made her way towards him, Her arms were laden with a basket full of breads and other treats. She had taken it upon herself to help feed not only Legolas, but Estel and the twins as well. Legolas grinned at her.

 

“I am a poor patient, I am afraid. Estel has the patience of a Vala, thankfully.” He peered into the basket. “If that is your bread that I see, I think you spoil me.”

 

“Nonsense! You're too thin still. We need to put some weight onto your frame. I have eggs baked in sausage, biscuits, the bread, and some fruit pies. I know you like those, too.”

 

“Ah, now you truly are spoiling me! We will have to check with Estel and see if I am permitted to have a fruit pie because I would really like one.” He grinned up at her. 

 

“I will ask him, you stay where you are. You've been abed for nearly a week. I imagine it feels wonderful to be up and outside for a change.”

 

“It does. I am enjoying having the sun on my face.”

 

“Good. Stay put and I'll go ask Estel what you may safely have.” Areliel knocked on the door, pausing until she heard Gilraen bid her to enter.

 

Legolas leaned back against the side of the house, turned his face back to the sun, and allowed himself to drift into a light reverie. He blinked, coming back to himself when Areliel passed back through the door, Gilraen a step behind her.

 

“Here, Taurion,” Gilraen said, handing Legolas an egg baked in a mild sausage. “Start on this and you can finish with a berry pie. You did well enough with the stew last night, and the sausage is mild enough not to bother your stomach.”

 

“Thank you both,” Legolas replied, accepting the egg and taking a small bite. He ate slowly, both to savor the taste and to not overtask his digestion. He finished the egg, making a mental note to ask Areliel to teach him to make the dish. He thought perhaps that his father would also appreciate eggs baked into sausage. Areliel handed him the berry pie with a smile before taking her leave. This he ate slowly as well, again savoring it. Brushing the stray crumbs from his shirt, he sat back and drifted into reverie once more.

 

 

Ooo

 

 

From then on, Legolas healed rapidly and Estel soon pronounced him sound enough to return to his cottage. The elf accepted the young healer's restrictions to his activities with good grace and soon found himself released to patrol again. Halboron, however, was permanently lame and acquiesced to being assigned to the instruction of the young warriors among the Dunedain. 

 

Life once again settled into a routine for the settlement, the orc activity growing less as winter gave way to spring and spring gave way to summer. The twins left for Imladris in the middle of spring, bearing letters from Legolas to both Thranduil and Tauriel.

 

 

Ooo

 

 

Legolas strode through the settlement, a sack of herbs hanging from his shoulder. He had gone out before daybreak to gather some much needed medicinal plants. There was what the Men called Summer Sickness in the settlement and Estel and Gilraen had been working tirelessly to aid those who had fallen ill. There had been a few deaths, two of the oldest residents of the Angle and three young children. 

 

Legolas had immediately volunteered his help in any capacity. He hunted herbs, fetched water, kept the supply of firewood and meat abundant and sat with those who were ill through the long stretches of the night. There had been no new cases of the illness for nearly a week and Estel was optimistic that the disease had begun to run it's course. The elf fervently hoped so.

 

He slipped soundlessly through the door, handing the herbs off to Estel before crossing the room to sit next to Areliel's bed. The woman had been among the last to fall ill and was in the most dangerous stage of the disease. Legolas removed the now warm cloth from her brow and dipped it in cool water, wringing it out and laying it back across her forehead. He did the same with the cloths on her chest, arms and legs she seemed to relax a bit when he was done and he moved on to do the same for another of the afflicted Dunedain.

 

The last bed he stopped by was one of the children, a young girl named Ellia. She had seemed to be recovering but had suddenly taken a turn for the worse during the night. He touched the cloth on her brow and frowned to find it cool. Taking a closer look, he saw to his sorrow that she breathed no more. Sternly controlling his expression, he gently wrapped her in the bedding she lay upon and lifted her into his arms.

 

“Oh, no,” Gilraen exclaimed, turning to see what he was doing. “Not Ellia!”

 

“She is gone, my lady,” the elf said quietly. Gilraen swallowed hard and nodded.

 

“Go ahead and take her outside. I will tell her parents.”

 

Legolas carried the child out to the place where the dead were being interred. Burials must be quick to prevent further spread of the sickness. He laid her in the grave that had been dug in the event that it would be needed, settling her gently and respectfully before nodding to the young Man waiting to fill the grave.

 

“Ellia, daughter of Solon,” he told the Man, who grimaced and nodded before beginning his task.

 

Legolas walked back towards the council house, where the sick were being tended, but found that he could not bring himself to go right back in. He dropped to sit on the bench outside, taking a few moments to compose himself. He had seen death before, most recently during the events leading up to the Battle of Five Armies and the Battle itself, but seeing a child that he knew, that he had told stories to in the evening by the hearth in the council house laying in a grave was not something that he had ever thought to have to see. He took a deep breath and began to try to gain some semblance of control over his emotions.

 

“Taurion?” 

 

The elf looked up to see Halbarad looking at him fearfully and he hastened to reassure the young Man,

 

“Your mother is holding her own, Friend Halbarad.” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Halbarad visibly sagged with relief before squaring his shoulders again.

 

“Who was it?”

 

“Little Ellia.” Legolas looked away quickly. “I should go back in.”

 

“You've been working without sleep for nearly three weeks. Take some time if you need to,” Halbarad protested. “My father sent me to ask if you needed anything.” Halboron had been ill but was now nearly recovered. Legolas shook his head.

 

“No, I just replenished the herb supply and we have all had a meal. I thank you both.” He stood and moved to the door. “Halbarad, I will do everything I can for your mother.”

 

“We know, and we are grateful. Send someone to us if we can do aught.” Legolas nodded and passed through the door.

 

 

Ooo

 

 

“Put your arm around my neck, Areliel. There, up we go.” Legolas stood, grinning at her. “Time to get you to your own bed, my lady.”

 

“Thank you, good sir. I am the envy of all the young lasses right now, you know,” the woman teased, smiling up at him. She was thin, and still weak, but had recovered enough to be sent back to her own home. Beside them, Gilraen chuckled.

 

“You and Lissuin,” she agreed. “Our Taurion is much in demand for transport these last few days.” Legolas felt his ears reddening and shook his head. He truly did not understand the fascination some of the Dunedain females had for his appearance.

 

“Poor Taurion, we're embarrassing you, aren't we?” Areliel asked.

 

“It is more that I do not understand,” he replied. “It is not as if the ladies here have never seen an elf.”

 

“We do occasionally see elves, yes, but seldom do we see elves with yellow hair and dimples,” Areliel explained, laying her head wearily on his shoulder. “You are a bit exotic.”

 

“I would think you would be a bit exotic anywhere you went. As I was told, most elves are dark haired. Is that not the case?” Gilraen asked.

 

“It is,” he confirmed. “My father's hair is paler than mine, and there are three or four others among the Sindar in the Greenwood that are fair haired. I know of one elf maiden who has red hair among the Silvans, but the rest are dark. And other than Lord Glorfindel, I saw only dark haired elves in Imladris.” He glanced at Gilraen. “May we please discuss something else?”

 

“I'm sorry, Taurion. I didn't wish to make you uncomfortable. I just wanted to see your smile again. You've been very grim of late,” Areliel said. “I have been worried.”

 

“I will be well, when everyone has recovered fully.” His mouth firmed into a line. “I do not fully understand sickness, but I do know that I hate it.”

 

“So do we all,” Gilraen replied softly, her eyes tearing. Areliel's arm tightened around his neck and he glanced down at her, afraid that he was holding her too tightly. She gave him a sad smile and he nodded, unable to say anything else.

 

 

Ooo

 

 

After getting Areliel settled with her husband and son, Legolas made his way back to his cottage. He expected that he would be sent out on patrol within the next day or two and wished to attempt to get some sleep before that happened. He had been four weeks without true sleep and he was beginning to feel the effects. As he reached his door, he heard his assumed name called. Turning, he saw Estel approaching.

 

“Taurion, Elladan and Elrohir just arrived. There are letters for you.” 

 

Legolas accepted the packet of letters, thanking the young Man and sat down to read. He opened his father's letter first and began to read. Half a paragraph in, the letter fell from his hand.

 

 

 

TBC


	5. 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Letters can bring good news or bad.

Title: Go North  
Author: sheraiah  
For full disclaimer, see chapter 1.

 

A/N: This fic has ended up, like many of my others, to be something that takes on a life of it's own. I have a few more tricks up my sleeve. 

It's also worth noting, to my newer readers, that the Thranduil in this story is the same Thranduil that I have written for well over a decade now. He is not, as I'm sure you've noticed, the movie version of the character. I cheerfully mix movieverse and bookverse at will and while I adore Lee Pace I was very dissatisfied with the movie version of Thranduil, who has always been my favorite of Tolkien's creations. In fact, running across Bad!Thranduil fics is what started me on this journey into writing Tolkien fanfic to begin with. Up to that point, I had only ever written Star Wars fanfic and original works. My dissatisfaction with That Scene in BOFA prompted this fic, as I stated in the author notes on chapter one. I have always viewed the movies as big budget fanfiction, at no time more than in the last installment.

Some other worthy works to note:

Fan made movies:  
Born of Hope  
The Search for Gollum

Fanfics for Thranduil and Legolas fans:  
The works of daw the minstrel  
The works of Nilmandra  
The works of lerouret (my dear friend and HLP)

 

Ooo

 

 

My beloved son,

 

I know not how to tell you this except to simply say it: Tauriel has passed into Mandos' halls. We had thought she was coming through her grief, but in the last week she simply slipped away from us. She went missing earlier today and we searched for several hours before finding her sitting on the steps by the cell the young dwarf prince occupied. She was already gone when we found her. I pray that Aule will make an exception for her and allow her to reunite with her love.

 

A letter seems inadequate and I wish we were able to grieve together. We will honor her life at sunset. I will send an emissary to Dain and ask if her ashes may be placed with Prince Kili. As they were unable to be together in life, it seems fitting to me that they be laid to rest together. I hope that Dain will agree. I will write again when I know more.

 

I am sorry, my son.

 

Adar

 

ooo

 

 

The world blurred before Legolas' eyes and it hurt to breathe. He could only stare at the letter, now lying on the ground at his feet. As if from far away, he heard one of the twins swear and he felt someone sit down beside him. An arm circled his shoulders and he was helped to his feet and guided into his cottage. Once inside, he was guided to sit on his bed and a cup was held to his lips. He drank instinctively, the strong, sweet cordial slipping easily down his throat. In a moment, his vision cleared and he was able to breathe more easily. Blinking, he looked up at the twin, Elrohir. Elladan stood by the small table, having just set the letter down on it. Estel, his face bearing an expression of mingled sympathy and guilt, stood by the door.

 

“Legolas, I am so sorry. We did not intend for you to read that unprepared. Your Adar wrote to ours, asking that we break the news to you gently,” Elrohir sat down next to him again, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “It was an accident that you received the letter as you did.” He looked up at Estel. “It was not your fault, Estel. You had no way of knowing what was in that letter.”

 

“If anything, the fault was ours for not making certain you waited for us,” Elladan pointed out. “Brother, give him a little more miruvor. He looks like to pass out at any moment still.”

 

Elrohir held the cup to his lips again and Legolas drank obediently. Warmth spread through his chest, easing the tightness and allowing him to breathe freely again. To his dismay, it also loosened the control he typically exerted over his emotions and he began to shake. Elladan crossed the room to kneel in front of him.

 

“Legolas, you are among friends. You need not guard yourself as you would in your father's court. There are none here who would carry tales.”

 

Estel approached and sat at his side opposite Elrohir, also wrapping an arm around him. “Elladan is right. There are none to see who would mock or carry tales. You have lost someone dear to you. It is only right to honor them by grieving their loss.”

 

Legolas gave in, turned to bury his face in Estel's shoulder, and allowed himself to weep.

 

Ooo

 

 

“I should have been there. I should never have left.”

 

The light outside had faded, Elladan had lit the lanterns and made a fire in the hearth before he and his twin had left to speak to Dirhael once Legolas had quieted. Estel had elected to stay, and had fixed a light meal for them, which Legolas had picked at and hardly tasted. He lay on his bed, staring into the fire.

 

“There wasn't anything you could have done. Legolas, you can't make an elf stop fading unless they want to. It doesn't work that way.” The elf 's eyes closed, his grief etching lines in his ageless face.

 

“I know. I knew what she would choose. Deep down, I knew.” He opened his eyes again and rolled onto his back to stare up at the roof. “I hoped I was wrong.”

 

“I'm sorry. Would it help to tell me of her?”

 

“Her name was Tauriel. I chose to use Taurion because of her. She would have laughed about that, before.” He rolled back to his side. “Her parents were killed by orcs when she was a child. My father took her in, and raised her with me. She was my dearest friend, my sister in everything but blood. When she was made Captain of the Guard, I would patrol with her group. We fought well together.We had no secrets. Not until we captured a party of thirteen dwarves in our lands. The Company of Thorin Oakenshield. There was one among them, a young archer. From the first, she seemed drawn to him, and he to her. I thought at first that it was curiosity. Tauriel had never seen a dwarf before. I saw her that night, though, sitting on the steps outside his cell, talking with him. I saw the way he looked at her. Later, after the dwarves escaped and fled to Laketown, after the dragon awoke and was slain, I saw them together again. He was the braver one, he made it plain what he felt for her. She might have replied in kind, had I not revealed myself when I did. I wish now that I had given them at least that.”

 

“He was killed in the battle?”

 

“Yes. I tried to reach them in time. I had run out of arrows, aiding Thorin Oakenshield. He was dead by the time I got close enough to help. I managed to keep the orc scum from killing her. I left to travel here right after he was laid to rest with his brother and uncle. He was Oakenshield's youngest nephew, Kili. Tauriel loved him.” He scrubbed his hand over his face. “Father is going to ask if her ashes can be placed in his tomb.”

 

“I am sorry, Legolas.”

 

“It was not your fault, Estel. You did not know.”

 

“No, but I wish you had not lost her.” The young Man crossed the room to sit on the side of the bed. “What will you do now?”

 

“I have less desire to be home now than I did before. I would stay, if you will have me.” 

 

“Of course. We are fortunate to have you with us.” He handed Legolas a mug. “Miruvor is all well and good, but dwarven brandy is best for drowning sorrows. I think, however, that you should not go out on patrol tomorrow. You can join the patrol I'm leading next week. We'll be going to the Shire and then circling over to Imladris before heading back here.” Legolas nodded, sitting up and turning so that his back was against the wall before taking a deep draught of the brandy. Estel gave a low whistle. “I was going to tell you that the brandy packs a punch but I see that will not be necessary.”

 

“I have had it before. King Thror used to serve it during diplomatic meetings. He used to trade it to us as well.” He shrugged, taking another drink. “Besides, I have been drinking Dorwinion wine practically since I was weaned.”

 

“Tell me more of Tauriel. How old were you when she came to live with you?”

 

“I had not reached my majority yet. I was 30, she was 20.” He grinned suddenly. “We were utter terrors, once we got to know each other and once she overcame her awe of being in the king's home. Adar may well have regretted his decision during those years.” He drained his mug. “I had started novice training and she insisted on going with me. Her mother was a warrior, and her father a healer. She had aptitude in both, but always opted towards the former. I think Adar had planned to apprentice her to one of the healers when she was old enough, but that went to the winds as soon as Tauriel picked up a bow. She was the only one who could challenge me with a bow, once she was grown.” Estel refilled the mug and Legolas took another deep draught.

 

“She sounds remarkable.”

 

“She was.” He grew solemn again. “She was one of very few to whom my title meant nothing. With her I was always just Legolas and not the king's son. I could join one of her patrols once she became Captain of the Guard and just be a warrior. She never treated me any differently than any of her warriors while we were out. It always shocked the newer ones, and the few that had parents either in the court or in the household.” 

 

“What kinds of trouble did you get into with her?” Estel asked, filling the elf's mug again.

 

“What did we not get into? We stole sweets from the kitchens, made tents in the feast hall and in Adar's study with bed sheets we had stolen from the laundry, placed buckets of water and ashes above the doorways to tip onto unsuspecting members of the court, put ink in the council's wine and in the hair soap supply in the public baths, short sheeted Adar's bed, set loose snakes, mice and beetles in the council meetings. I am surprised we did not drive Adar mad.”

 

“You really were little terrors,” Estel said, shaking his head.

 

“We truly were. We had so much fun. Looking back, I think Adar might have known what he was in for. He had a younger brother, and he knew Elladan and Elrohir when they were small. I think he wanted both of us to have that.” He raised the mug again, frowning when he found it empty. Estel poured a small amount of the brandy for him and the elf downed it.

 

“Here, let me take your mug and get you some water.” Estel took the mug and filled it with water before handing it back to Legolas. “Drink that down and I'll give you a little more of the brandy.”

 

“Thank you. I do not wish to suffer from indulgence come morning.” The elf drank the water down and accepted the small amount of the brandy. He stared into the fire for a moment. “Everything changed when we caught the dwarves in the forest. I expected Tauriel to be curious about them. She was curious about everything. But from the start, there was something between her and the young dwarf prince. He flirted shamelessly with her, something no one had ever dared to do before. I actually heard him ask her if she was going to search him, that he could have anything down his trousers! She never lost her composure. She just said, “Or nothing” and shut the cell door. He just smiled. I think he wanted her to come back at him like that. I did not understand at the time. It made me angry.”

 

“You thought he was being disrespectful to her, didn't you?”

 

“Yes, and I was wrong to. I think he may well have lost his heart to her the first time he saw her.” He sighed. “He was being dragged across a clearing on his arse by a spider when we first saw him. Tauriel rescued him.” He reached up and started to undo his braids, succeeding only in snarling them.

 

“Stop pulling on them. Sit forward a minute,” Estel undid the braids and Legolas ran his hands through his hair. “Here, let me get you some more water and then I think you should lay down and try to rest.” He refilled the mug and waited while Legolas drained it, then helped the elf out of his tunic and shirt.

 

“I am not drunk. I should not be drunk,” Legolas said, frowning up at the young Ranger.

 

“Only a little, my friend. What ails you now is more grief and too many days without rest than the brandy, although I hope that aids you to sleep without ill dreams.” Estel guided him down onto the bed, atop the covers as the night was warm even though they had allowed the fire to die out. “Rest now. I will stay until midnight. Elladan will stay with you then.”

 

“I do not need nursemaids.”

 

“No, you do not. However, you do have friends who care about you.” The young Man's face bore a patient expression. “Rest now.”

 

ooo

 

Pale, gray light filtered through the cottage's shutters when Legolas became aware again. He lay still for a moment, listening and assessing himself before sitting up.

 

“How are you feeling?” Elladan's voice came from the vicinity of the hearth. Legolas sighed, running his hands through his hair and over his face.

 

“I will survive.” He shot the peredhel a sharp look. “I am not wine-sick if that is what you are asking.”

 

“No, or at least not entirely. I know Estel well enough to know he took care to give you sufficient water to prevent wine-sickness.” He rose and added a piece of wood to the small fire in the hearth. “Here,” he said handing a steaming mug to the elf. “Strong tea will clear any cobwebs sleep and brandy may have left. Halboron sent meat, cheese, bread and some of Areliel's preserves. You should try to eat something.” Legolas accepted the tea with a slight shrug.

 

“I will try. I make no promises.” He looked up briefly. “Thank you. I am poor company. I appreciate what you are doing for me. What all of you have done for me.”

 

“We all know only too well what grief feels like,” Elladan replied softly. “I spoke to Dirhael last night. He agrees with Estel that you should not go out on patrol today. Surien was willing to go in your stead.” He moved to the table, unwrapping the bread and slicing a piece, spreading the preserves on it generously before handing it to Legolas. “As I recall, you are fond of sweets. Let us see how you do with this.”

 

ooo

 

Legolas emerged from the cottage just as the sun began to rise past the horizon. He crossed the open space in the center of the settlement quickly, heading for the gate and the trees beyond. He was no fit company for anyone, as evidenced by his churlish behavior towards Elladan, despite the peredhel's graciousness. He wished to seek the company of the trees until he managed to regain his composure. 

 

“Taurion!” 

 

With effort he schooled his expression to something resembling impassiveness and turned to greet Gilraen with every shred of courtesy he could muster. She smiled, shaking her head.

 

“It's all right, I don't expect you to be your usual sweet self today. Estel told me what happened. I am so sorry for your loss.” He swallowed hard and nodded. “ Here, take this with you in case you feel like eating later.” She handed him a cloth bundle. He took it, his surprise evidently showing on his face. She chuckled. “I lived in Imladris for 20 years. I do have a bit of experience in dealing with elves, although Imladris elves and Greenwood elves aren't of a piece. Still, some things are similar. None of you handle grief particularly easily. Why would you?”

 

“My lady, I am rather in awe of the strength of your people in that regard,” he said, shifting the bundle to the crook of his left arm.

 

“”It comes of long practice, something I have to say that I am rather glad you have not had up to this point. I grieve that you lost one so dear to you, but I also grieve that you have lost a great measure of your innocence. Perhaps that is the mother in me speaking, for I have had the same grief where Estel is concerned.”

 

“Estel is a fine young Man, my lady. One of the finest I have ever had the honor of meeting.”

 

“Thank you. He is a good man. He will grow to be a great one, I believe.” She smiled faintly. “I doubt I will live to see it, but perhaps you will see it for me.” His breath caught and he stared at her. “What is it?”

 

“My lady, Estel's use name in the Wilds is Strider, is it not?” She gave him a measured look for a long moment before nodding.

 

“It is, and before you say it, yes, I do know that my husband was acquainted with your father. He told me much. Arathorn admired your father greatly.”

 

“Adar called him a good man. That is very high praise from him.” Legolas paused for a moment before continuing. “He also told me that Estel could become greater than his father. That is why he suggested that I come here. He wished for me to meet Estel. He did not say why, and I have learned to simply trust his instincts when he says such things.” He looked at the ground briefly before meeting her eyes. “Adar is not foresighted, you understand. Not as Lord Elrond is, nor even as Elladan can be. He is, however, very good at seeing patterns and in seeing beings for what they truly are.” He sighed, running a hand though locks left loose in mourning. “In any case, I am glad that I have come to know Estel, and you, Halbarad, Halboron, Areliel and everyone here. I wish to stay for the time being.”

 

“And what of you? Are you foresighted?” Her tone had a teasing lilt to it but he sensed that she was serious.

 

“No, else I would have done many things differently of late,” he replied, shaking his head. “Most definitely not.”

 

“I wonder what your lot and Estel's would have been had his father and your mother not died while you were both young. Futile fancies, I know, but I do wonder.” He grinned ruefully.

 

“Had Naneth lived to bear more children, Adar would have a different heir. That I do know. As it stands now, he refuses to force me into that which I am unsuited for, despite his council's objections. He has always allowed me to go my own way. For that last 600 years, that has been whatever way Tauriel was headed in. I cannot imagine a world without her in it.” He blinked rapidly, not wishing to disgrace himself in the middle of the settlement. “Forgive me, I am poor company today.”

 

“I do not expect you to be good company when you're grieving. Just remember that we are here should you need us.” She patted his arm comfortingly. “Go seek the company of trees for awhile. I know enough of Silvan elves to know that it is your mother's blood that calls to you today. We will be here when you return. Come sup with us this evening if you wish.”

 

“Thank you, my lady.” He bowed and turned towards the gate.

 

Ooo

 

My beloved Adar,

 

I hope my letter finds you as well as you can be under the circumstances. I also hope that the petition to King Dain bore favorable results. As for me, I am having difficulty imagining a world without Tauriel in it, as I must hope she is not since I too hope that she may be reunited with Prince Kili. She would not want us to grieve over long, and I am trying to honor what I know would be her wish.

 

The Dunedain are very kind. They know grief well and I am in awe of their ability to continue on in spite of it. Are all Men made such, I wonder? They have been of great comfort to me. I sorrow that I am not there for you in that capacity. Please allow Luinloth or Galion to look after you. And do not try to tell me that you need them not, Adar. I know you too well to believe that.

 

The Summer Sickness has run its course, thankfully. There were fewer deaths this year than in years past, I am told, but it seems that one is too many to me. I am thankful that everyone is well again, most particularly my friends Halboron and Areliel. I feared for them, Areliel especially, but they are well now. 

 

Areliel spoils me as badly as she does her husband and their son. Very few days go by that I do not have fresh bread or fruit pies made by her hand. Lady Gilraen spoils me too, but I aid her with chores her late husband would have been doing were he still living, as is the custom among the Dunedain for widows to be cared for by the bachelors in the settlement in return for meals and mending. Before you ask, I do bring meat for their tables. You raised me with manners that I have not forgotten.

 

I am slated to go out on patrol again in a couple of days. I admit that I am glad for this as it will give me something else for my thoughts to dwell on. I enjoy traveling with the Rangers. I find their way of sharing tasks to be beneficial. Tasks are rotated on a rough schedule, not assigned permanently each to one individual. I have learned much and I suggest that our patrols might benefit from such an arrangement. It is something that would be worth discussing with the captains, at any rate.

 

I am sending this with the gwenyn, so I will already be on patrol by the time you read it. Until I can write again, Adar, be well.

 

 

Your Son


	6. 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Legolas works through his grief and encounters someone he did not think to see again.

Title: Go North ch 6  
Rating: PG  
Author: sheraiah

 

A/N: Okay, okay, I like Tauriel! I truly do! For this storyline, she had to fade and die. I'm sorry but that's just how it had to be.

 

 

 

Ooo

 

 

Legolas drew in a deep breath, appreciative of the scent of the trees around him. The patrol had left the Angle three days ago and the elf, for one, was mightily glad to be outside walls. He was still dealing with his grief over Tauriel's death, and would be for a long time, but he accepted her decision and the reasons for it. Death was inevitable among the Dunedain, but life carried on and it helped the young elf immeasurably to witness their fortitude.

 

Estel had been very closed-mouthed about the purpose of this particular patrol, but it was obvious to Legolas that there was one, beyond the usual. They traveled swiftly, as if they were on course to a rendezvous. The prince held his tongue, willing to trust the Rangers to tell him anything he truly needed to know, and carried on with the tasks he was assigned. This was the first time he had patrolled with Estel, and he had the sense that the young Man was observing and testing him. So be it. Legolas had had far older and more intimidating evaluators than a barely adult adan, whatever his lineage. Besides which, he had become very fond of Estel in the months prior. 

 

Estel had told him that terrible night that they were going to the Shire, but by Legolas' reckoning they were on course to pass it. His fierce and rampant curiosity had always been foremost among the traits that his father's council deemed undesirable and in need of eradication in their Crown Prince. Thranduil, however, had encouraged him albeit adding instructions not to endanger himself in the course of investigation. Keeping a tight rein on this tendency was difficult, but he managed. He asked no questions, merely observing and cataloging clues to mull over during his turn as sentry. They were definitely meeting someone but for what purpose he had been unable to discover discreetly and he refused to abuse the trust the Dunedain had placed in him by asking. They would tell him in their own time. He would just need to remain patient, unfortunately not one of his traits.

 

Ooo

 

“Taurion, a word with you?” Estel asked, quietly as they finished breaking their fast several days into their journey.

 

“Of course,” Legolas replied. “If it is urgent, our bowls can wait a little while for cleaning.”

 

“No need,” a Ranger named Fallin said cheerfully. “I'll see to them. I drew last watch, so I'm free until then. The bowls won't take long.”

 

“Mind you do as good a job as Taurion does,” a Ranger named Siril quipped from across the fire. “I've no desire to taste Elrian's stew more than once!” Elrian gave him a good-natured shove as the rest of the camp laughed.

 

“No worry for that, Siril. We're already going to be tasting it for days!” Fallin shot back, dodging the spoon that Elrian flung at him in retaliation.

 

“Thank you, Fallin. It is important, if not urgent. I'm certain you can think of something that you'd like to trade the duty to Taurion for.”

 

“Anything but your laundry,” Legolas said dryly. “There is nothing of great enough worth as a trade to merit handling your stockings.” The camp roared with laughter as Fallin playfully slugged the elf in the shoulder.

 

“Just for that, I'll trade you privy duty on my next turn. And I'll have you know that yours don't smell like roses either after weeks on the road.”

 

“I am aware of that, but at least they do not smell like wet wargs who have rolled in carrion.” The camp erupted in laughter again and Estel, shaking his head, motioned for Legolas to follow him.

 

“Fallin, never try to best an elf with words. They are practically born knowing how to tease and argue.”

 

ooo

 

Legolas hopped up to perch on a rock just on the edge of a Man's sight of the camp. “What did you wish to discuss?”

 

“I know you have been very curious about our purpose and destination. I appreciate that you have trusted us as a whole and me in particular enough not to ask questions.”

 

“I knew that you would tell me what I needed to know in your own time.” He drew one leg up, wrapping his arms around it and resting his chin on his knee. “Estel, you are very used to keeping secrets, I deem. I understand that only too well. So, what is it that I need to know that you could not say before your kin? I am guessing it has to do with my lineage.”

 

“In a word, yes. Lord Elrond requested that we meet and escort a party heading from the Blue Mountains to Erebor by way of the Shire and Imladris. As your father's son, it might prove awkward but I believe that you must be among us to meet someone in this party.”

 

“You are foresighted, are you not?” Legolas asked, unsurprised when Estel nodded. “Then, it is well that I am here. Did Lord Elrond tell you who we are to escort?”

 

“No, but if I had to guess I would say it is probably the sister of Thorin Oakenshield. I know she has not yet made the journey to Erebor.” The elf's face became pensive, and Estel frowned. “What is it?”

 

“She might not remember, but I have met the Lady Dis before.”

 

-many years prior-

 

 

“Hush, do you hear that?” Legolas said, gesturing for the other elves in the patrol to be quiet.

 

“It sounds like a bird, but not,” Histel, an older warrior, commented softly. “That direction, I believe.” He gestured to the northeast. 

 

“We must be careful. We are coming close to the edge of the forest. It is not safe to venture too close to the Lake if the dragon is hunting,” another of the elder warrior cautioned.

 

“The king has commanded that we stay clear of the areas that the dragon is likely to roam, and we shall do so,” Tauriel said decisively. “I do not believe that we will have to go that far and we should investigate. We are still finding animals wounded by the dragon's attack on Dale and Erebor.” She glanced at the prince. “Legolas, your eyes are the best. You may scout ahead. Take Delios with you. If you find a wounded animal, deal with the situation as you feel appropriate. I will take the rest of the patrol on. You will meet back up with us when you are able.” He nodded respectfully and moved cautiously in the direction the cries had come from, Delios trailing after him.

 

The cries grew louder the further from the path. It was not a bird, and Legolas suspected that it was not an animal, either. That would complicate things, but Tauriel had proved as canny as he had expected. She knew him too well. Legolas rarely pulled the rank he was entitled to, and Delios was the member of the patrol that he would be least likely to have to do so with. Should the source of the sound turn out to be what he suspected, Delios would not be much of an obstacle. He might even be curious enough to be an asset. Legolas crept out onto a thick limb that shadowed a clear spot in the underbrush, his eyebrows climbing to his hairline at the sight that met his gaze.

 

“What is that?” Delios asked in a whisper. He was a very young warrior and this was his first patrol.

 

“A dwarf child. A female, I think.” Legolas tilted his head, looking the child over as best he could from a distance. “She does not appear to be badly injured. Bruises, cuts and perhaps some minor burns.” He glanced around, straining his ears. “I do not hear any other dwarves. She must have gotten separated from her family.”

 

“What do we do? We cannot leave her here. She will die.” Delios said, wide eyed.

 

“And we shall not. Come along.”

 

 

The dwarfling's cries had become watery sniffles. Legolas dropped silently to the forest floor a couple of yards away from the child, motioning Delios to stay just behind him. Delios did not speak the Common Tongue, but Legolas was fluent. Deliberately, he snapped a twig and the dwarfling startled violently, her head snapping up, terror plainly written on her face.

 

“Peace, little one. We will not harm you.” Legolas said quietly, keeping his hands where she could see them. “Are you lost?” She sniffled loudly.

 

“You're elves.”

 

“Yes, little one, we are. And you are a dwarrow dam, yes?”

 

“Yes. How do you know that? My brother says Men and elves are usually too dim to tell.” Legolas chuckled, thankful that Delios was unlikely to have understood her words.

 

“I have seen dwarrow dams before. In Dale, my lady. Are you hurt?”

 

“I fell down. My ankle hurts and I can't walk anymore.” Her lip trembled. “Wolves are going to eat me.”

 

“If any wolves come, Delios and I will not let them eat you.. May I look at your ankle? I might be able to make it feel a little better.” She eyed him suspiciously for a moment before sniffling again and nodding. “Delios, hand me the healing supplies.” The young elf passed him the pack and fished some waybread out of his own supply.

 

“She looks hungry,” he said, taking a bite before offering it to the dwarfling. She took it politely, but devoured it as if she had not seen food for days. He handed her his waterskin, allowing her to drink enough to slake her thirst but not enough to make herself sick. While the dwarfling ate and drank, Legolas assessed her ankle. He was not a healer per se, but he had had the same training any warrior received to deal with combat wounds and accidents.

 

“She has twisted her ankle, but it is not broken,” Legolas said. “Keep her distracted, wrapping it will not be pleasant.” He wrapped it swiftly as Delios fed the child a small amount of dried fruit from his pack. She seemed little bothered by the ankle when faced with food.

 

“My lady, are you traveling with your family?” Legolas asked as soon as her ankle had been seen to. Her lip trembled again.

 

“I don't know where Mam went. We couldn't find her. My brother picked me up and ran when everything started burning. Frerin carried me out of the mountain. There were lots of dwarrows, but we couldn't find Mam. Thorin and Da found us later, and Grand Da. Grand Da was sick. I want my Mam.”

 

“Shhh, little one.” Legolas picked her up, settling her in his lap. “We will help you find your family.” To Delios he said, “It is the princess. Her people will be frantic when they realize she is not with them. We must find them.”

 

“She cannot have wandered far, and they are dwarves. We will hear them long before we see them,” Delios said with a shrug. “Since you are able to speak with her, I will range ahead. Is that acceptable, my lord?”

 

“Yes, and take care not to call me by name when we do find her kin. They are not likely to look fondly upon me under the circumstances.”

 

 

It took longer than either elf guessed to find the dwarven refugees. By the time Delios found the first sign of them, three days had passed.

 

“How in Eru's name did she get so far from her kin?” the young elf asked, exasperated.

 

“Who can say? Judging by their tracks, they've been searching for her. They shouldn't be too far ahead. Let us get her returned to them quickly.”

 

'”The quicker the better, my lord. She is very cute and little enough trouble, but the king is not going to be pleased that you've been away for so long. I would as soon stay out of his notice.”

 

“My father will not worry. He knows I am well. The trees would have told him had it been otherwise.” Legolas settled the sleeping child more comfortably against his shoulder. “I think I hear them ahead of us.”

 

 

 

“My prince, we must accept reality: if the Lady Dis were alive, we would have found her by now!” the black bearded dwarf pleaded. “As terrible as her loss is, we must continue on. Our people need food and shelter. We cannot delay the inevitable any longer.” The dwarf prince, Thrain's muscles jumped in obvious effort to stay his hand from striking down the unfortunate courtier elected to confront him. Behind him, his eldest son, eyes full of anguish, held his younger son as Frerin wept openly.

 

“Get out of my sight,” Thrain growled and the courtier fled. He turned to his sons. “He is correct that our people need food and shelter. I doubt your grandfather will long survive without both. My son, what are your thoughts?”

 

“We cannot give up on Dis. But neither can we allow our people to starve and die of exposure.” Thorin scowled fiercely, attempting to hide his grief and failing.

 

“Agreed. Balin, you and Thorin will lead them on. I will take a group and continue searching.”

 

“Father, no. You need to lead our people. You are next in line after Grandfather. While he's ill, our kin look to you. I will search for Dis. Balin and a few other warriors will come with me.”

 

 

“Oh, hells,” Legolas muttered. “Delios, what we planned is not going to work. I apologize in advance.” Taking a deep breath, Legolas stepped out into the open in full view of the dwarves, much to his companion's dismay. “Lord Thrain! I think perhaps that you have misplaced something very valuable. Or rather, someone.” He drew his cloak aside to reveal the sleeping child. “She is unharmed. She turned her ankle and received some cuts and bruises going through the forest, but she is well other than that.” He handed the child over to her anxious father quickly and was very careful not to make any sudden moves after she was out of his arms. Her father and brothers looked her over thoroughly before turning back to the elven prince.

 

“You have my thanks, Lord Legolas,” Thrain said gruffly. Legolas merely nodded.

 

“There is a town three leagues west where you should be able to barter for food and shelter,” the elf said softly. 

 

“Again, you have my thanks. You should go before any more of our people see you.” Again, Legolas nodded and disappeared back into the trees.

 

 

End flashback

 

 

ooo

 

 

 

“She was a very small child at the time. It is doubtful that she would remember,” Legolas said. “How do you wish to handle the fact that they may well be hostile to the presence of any elf, much less a Mirkwood elf.”

 

“By not hiding your presence. You will be as you usually are, hood down. Your clothing is more of our style than of your home right now, so they may not realize that you're from Mirkwood.”

 

“Unless they have seen either me, or my father. We had best discuss what we plan to do if that is the case.”

 

“If necessary, I can send you ahead to Hobbiton, or back to the Angle. We shall see what happens.”

 

“Agreed. And now, since you have second watch, you should be sleeping, young Ranger,” Legolas teased with a grin.

 

“Yes, Dirhael.”

 

“Truly? That is the best you could do?”

 

 

ooo

 

 

Legolas stood among the Rangers, hood down, as Estel approached the dwarves. The dwarves seemed wary rather than hostile and Legolas was encouraged by that. It was a large group, males, females and children of both sexes as well as animals and carts. As Legolas' gaze swept across the assembled dwarves, he saw a familiar face. With effort, he refrained from grimacing as he recognized the bald, tattooed dwarf who had acted as Thorin Oakenshield's lieutenant. His presence might prove awkward.

 

“I am Strider. Elrond of Rivendell asked us to travel with you as far as the valley.” The young ranger bowed just enough to show respect without seeming subordinate. The tattooed dwarf bowed in the same manner.

 

“Dwalin, son of Fundin at your service. Master Elrond told us of this. Rangers are welcome in our camp. We can look after ourselves, but more warriors make the road safer.”

 

“Thank you, Master Dwalin. You are welcome in our camp as well. Master Elrond said that you wished to travel to Hobbiton?”

 

“Yes. We want to check on a friend there. We will not stay long.”

 

“Understood. We offer any aid that we may.” Estel bowed again. The dam standing next to Dwalin spoke up then.

 

“Captain Strider, I would speak with you, and with the elf who travels with you.”

 

“At your convenience, my lady,” Estel replied, bowing again, deeper this time.

 

“I will send for you once our camp is set up,” she said, her eyes moving between Estel and Legolas.

 

“We await your messenger.”

 

 

ooo

 

 

“It seems our wait is over,” Legolas remarked quietly, looking past Estel into the twilight gloom past the fire. The young Ranger stood, turning to meet the dwarf, Dwalin.

 

“Master Dwalin,” the Man said, inclining his head in greeting. “Let us not keep the lady waiting.” Dwalin merely nodded, turning back the way he'd come. Estel followed, Legolas a step behind him. Halfway to the dwarves camp, Dwalin stopped and turned to face them.

 

“I don't know what Lady Dis wants to talk to you for,” he said shortly, “But I want to know what you're doing traveling with Rangers, prince of Mirkwood.” Legolas briefly touched Estel's arm, forestalling anything the Ranger might have said.

 

“An honest question, and a fair one. I found I could not remain in the Woodland Realm after the Battle was over to watch my dearest friend die of grief. My father has had dealings with the Rangers over the years and thinks well of them. He suggested I spend some time among them. Lord Elrond agreed and sent a letter of introduction. I have been here since.” He met the dwarf's eyes steadily. Dwalin nodded and began walking again.

 

“Did she die?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“I'm sorry for that. From what Bofur and Oin have said, she loved the lad and he, her. It would have stirred up a hornet's nest, but we dwarves don't give our hearts lightly and we of the Company at least would have backed the match, if only to see Kili happy.”

 

“Nor do elves. Tauriel was young, but she knew her mind and her heart. I, too, would have supported her choice. He did love her. He told her as much when they parted company on the shore of the Lake.” Dwalin grunted what Legolas assumed to be agreement and they both fell silent again. They wound their way to a large tent at the center of the dwarves' encampment. Dwalin stopped at the entrance, speaking briefly to one of the sentries there. The sentry nodded and ducked into the tent, returning a moment later to bid them enter.

 

The lady Dis was sitting at a wooden table and rose as they entered her tent. “Thank you for agreeing to speak with me, Captain, Prince Legolas.”

 

“At your service, my lady,” Estel replied, bowing slightly again. “But I think perhaps it is Legolas you wish to speak with rather than me.”

 

“Not entirely, Captain. I do wish to speak with you, and we shall, but I did not wish to be disrespectful by asking to speak with the prince first. At least not in front of your command.”

 

“Come on, Captain. I've some fine ale that I can share in the meantime,” Dwalin said, nodding towards the fire out in front of the tent. 

 

“Lead on, Master Dwalin,” Estel said, smiling.

 

 

Ooo

 

 

“You have not changed at all, Prince Legolas.” Lady Dis resembled her eldest brother to a great degree, down to the silver in her black hair and startling blue eyes.

 

“You have grown quite a bit, Lady Dis. I am sorry for your losses.” She nodded briefly.

 

“That is, in part, what I wished to speak to you of. I know you fought in the Battle. Dwalin sanitizers his account, he still sees me as the child I was when last we met at times. So, I will ask you: how did my sons die?”

 

“Fili died attempting to save both your brother and his, and Kili died attempting to save my friend.” Legolas glanced down before meeting her eyes again. 

 

“Your friend. That would be the elf maid I have been told of. Tauriel.”

 

“Yes.” He truly did not wish to speak of Tauriel, but if she wanted to hear of her, he would do so.

 

“Lord Legolas, I have heard that she has died. I am sorry for that.” She sighed, walking back to the table and pouring two tumblers of wine. “Please, sit. I would speak of this in as civilized a manner as possible. I have a decision to made that you are uniquely able to assist me in making.” He sat carefully, folding his long legs under the table. “My cousin has sent word that your king has requested that Tauriel's remains be placed with my son's. The decision whether or not to allow this is mine, Dain says. So, I would know more of Tauriel. Will you tell me of her?” Legolas took a deep draught of the wine.

 

“I will. What do you wish to know?”

 

 

ooo

 

 

Much later, Legolas and Estel parted company with the dwarves and began the trek back to the Rangers' camp. The elf was quiet, his mood subdued. Estel shot worried glances at him every so often. Finally, when they were roughly halfway between the camps, Legolas rolled his eyes and stopped in his tracks.

 

“Estel, please ask what you wish to know.”

 

“Very well. How are you after that?”

 

“I would rather not have spoken of Tauriel, but she needed to hear of her. Dain has deferred the decision of whether or not to allow Tauriel's ashes to be interred with Prince Kili to Kili's mother. Lady Dis is not the sort to make an uninformed decision.”

 

“Will she allow it?”

 

“She did not tell me and I did not ask. It is rightly her decision. I would not attempt to sway her either way. She is a grieving mother. Pressuring her would be unconscionable.”

 

“I am sorry. Truly I am,” Estel sighed. “Did you draw sentry duty tonight?”

 

“No,” the elf said, turning and beginning to walk again. “But I may as well as I doubt I will find rest after that.” He shot the Ranger a sharp glance. “Do not look so at me. She did nothing wrong. The difficulty is mine and I will deal with it.” 

 

“Far be it for me to try to get past your stiff necked elven pride,” Estel shot back. “Legolas, I think you have been too long in the way of having to rely only on yourself. Let go of some of the stubbornness and let us help you. Let me help you.” Legolas stopped again, drawing a deep breath.

 

“You have. All of you have.” He turned to face the young Man. “Estel, you helped me far more than you will ever know the night I learned of Tauriel's fate. Speaking of her then was what I needed. I needed to remember the good parts more than the end of it. Had I been home, there would have been little respite from the grief. Adar and I would likely have drunk ourselves blind. Adar most probably did. He did not often show it, but he loved her as if she had been his child too. He has far more regrets than I do.” He sighed, turning his face up to look at the stars. “Estel, I will be well, I promise you that.”

 

“I will hold you to that.” The young Man regarded him for a long moment. “And we will likely have some variation of this conversation again. For the time being, let us get back to camp. You may not need the rest, but I drew third watch.” Legolas shook his lead, almost chuckling.

 

“You are a fine one to talk. You are easily as stubborn as I am.”


	7. Chapter 7

Title: Go North ch 7  
Author: sheraiah

 

 

A/N: Yes, I know it's been forever. I write very slowly, and I have multiple WIP. I have not, however, abandoned any of them except Pearl of the Sea. Be patient, I'll get to updating the rest eventually. Anyway, I'm back from Dragon Con and decided to spend the last day of my vacation updating at least one of my WIP.

 

 

 

Ooo

 

Dis, daughter of Thrain, sighed heavily as she signed her name to the sheet of parchment before her, sprinkling sand over the signature to dry the ink and prevent smearing before using the wax and her seal on it. Handing off the message to the dwarf waiting to receive it, she nodded politely as that dwarf bowed and took his leave. Turning to her companion, she accepted the goblet that the dwarrow dam held out and drained it gratefully.

 

“It's done. Dain will make the arrangements and await our arrival to issue the invitation.”

 

“Are you certain this is what you wish? No one would dare argue either way, of course, but I worry that you're thinking only of the kingdom. If there's any time you're allowed to think only of yourself, it's now,” the dark haired dam stated softly.

 

“Nothing will bring them back. Barring the maid surviving, Kili would have wanted her with him. That's reason enough for me. The fact that Thranduil asked it, and politely at that, Dain can use as he sees fit.” She sighed again, rubbing her forehead. “Naris, we both know that Thorin likely antagonized Thranduil. My stubborn fool of a brother never could reign in his temper. Especially not where Thranduil was concerned. Da said that was why he always asked for Legolas to negotiate trade agreements. He has a longer fuse than his father does, and more of a sense of humor.” She smiled humorlessly. “So long as one doesn't underestimate him. He's every bit as sharp as his sire, and just as ruthless when he needs to be.”

 

“He puts on airs less than any elf I've ever met, I'll give him that,” Naris stated. “Did he answer your questions?”

 

“Yes, and in greater detail than I anticipated. He clearly cared a great deal for the maid, and he mourns her loss far more than he lets on.” She glanced at her companion. “He intended to champion the match to his father.”

 

“He told you that?”

 

“No. He told Dwalin when Dwalin told him that the company would have done so to the kingdom for Kili's sake. He was very careful not to tread into territory that might be exceptionally painful for Kili's mother unless I asked.” Dis' mouth twisted almost into a smile. “I think perhaps he doesn't have much experience with females if he thinks we're that fragile. I do, however, appreciate that he was trying to be kind. It speaks well of his upbringing.” She reached for the pitcher and poured another goblet, and a second for Naris before handing it to her companion. “This isn't the first time I've been on the receiving end of kindness from the prince of Mirkwood.” The look she gave Naris was eerily reminiscent of her younger son. “I never told you that I wandered away from our group while we were fleeing the dragon and he found me and brought me back to Da and my brothers, did I?”

 

“No, you didn't. As curious as I am about that tale, it would be better told tomorrow while we travel. You need to rest. I know for a fact that you've hardly slept since Dwalin and the others arrived.”

 

“Grief will do that. I'll try and rest, Naris. After today, I may manage a few hours.” She glanced up as her companion moved to the entrance of the tent. “Naris, please pass the word that Prince Legolas is known as Taurion among the rangers and is to be addressed as Master Taurion rather than by his true name.”

 

“He's hiding his identity?”

 

“Not from the rangers' captain. My guess is that he's doing so to protect his father. Regardless, he's been fair and honest with me so we will respect his wishes.”

 

 

ooo

 

 

Thranduil stood before the hearth in the Great Hall of Dale, listening to the activity taking place behind him with little interest. His company had arrived earlier in the day, bearing supplies for the people of Dale, as much as he could spare from his kingdom's stores without risking his own folk going hungry over the winter. At the moment, a group of his warriors were hunting to add to the stores of smoked meat that were running low in the city. He himself had declined a meal, not wishing for anyone to go hungry in favor of providing him a meal that he could well afford to miss. He remembered only too acutely being a refugee after the fall of Doriath, as could many on his council. For once, there had been little objection to sharing the stores with Bard's people.

 

Something brushed against his ankle and he looked down to see a gray kitten winding between his ankles and purring. A slight grin formed on his stern face and he knelt, picking up the small creature. “Where did you come from?” he asked quietly in his native tongue. The kitten merely purred louder and cuddled under his chin. He chuckled, scratching behind it's ears and rising to his full height again.

 

“Oh, you found Smudge!” Thranduil turned to see Bard's youngest grinning up at him.

 

“She is yours?” The little girl laughed.

 

“She belongs to everyone. And no one. Smudge goes where she pleases. She's already a really good hunter. Da swears she's keeping the mice out of the grain stores all by herself.”

 

“Then I am pleased to make her acquaintance,” he replied, humor lacing his tone. He handed the cat to the child and it settled contentedly into Tilda's arms.

 

“Sigrid said you didn't want any lunch.” She cocked her head, studying him. “Weren't you hungry?”

 

“Not enough to accept food that would be better given elsewhere,” he replied. Her eyes widened slightly.

 

“That's nice of you. Bain and Sigrid do that, too, unless Da catches them at it. They make sure I don't, though. Sigrid says I'm growing too fast to be skipping meals now.”

 

“I would agree with your sister's assessment. You are taller than when last I saw you.” He smiled slightly, enjoying his interaction with the charming child.

 

“Da says I'm growing like a weed. Sigrid had to let out the hems on all my skirts.”

 

“My son was the same when he was your size.” He chuckled, remembering Legolas as a gangly child and sobering as he remembered Tauriel as the same. “As was Tauriel.” A small hand slipped into his.

 

“I miss her too.” She looked solemnly up at him, the kitten having climbed onto her shoulder.

 

“She would not wish sadness on us,” he said softly. “Shall I tell you a happy story of her?”

 

ooo

 

 

“But Sigrid, he tells the best stories! And he doesn't mind. He would have said so if he did.”

 

“The hunters were coming in. King Thranduil needed to talk to them. You can get more stories later if he feels like telling them. Right now I need to make sure your best dress still fits and then I need your help making berry tarts.”

 

“Well, why didn't you say that in the first place? Berry tarts are his favorite, he told me so.”

 

“He said that? I wasn't sure, he usually won't eat when he's here.” Sigrid shook out the dress before turning to help her sister out of her everyday clothing.

 

“That's because he doesn't want anyone going hungry to feed him. He said that too, when I asked.” She smirked at her sister. “Just like you and Bain when Da isn't looking.” Sigrid flushed red.

 

“I honestly never considered that and I should have.” Her lips firmed into a line. “We'll see about that. And what do you mean just like Bain? He's got no business doing that, either. He's growing faster than you are.”

 

“Da doesn't like you doing it, either.”

 

“That's different, I'm grown or as near to it as makes no difference. Now hush and try this dress on.” She surveyed the dress' fit. “Not too bad. We do need to let the hem down a little, but that won't take long.”

 

“Don't stick me with a pin this time, Sigrid.”

 

“I won't if you hold still, wiggle-worm.”

 

ooo

 

 

“It's beautiful country, isn't it?” Strider asked, moving to stand at Legolas' left shoulder. The elf nodded, his eyes roving over the green fields and winding roads before them.

 

“It it a peaceful place. I pray that it remains so.”

 

“That is what we are trying to preserve by patrolling it's borders,” the young Man commented. “Hobbits are far from helpless, and they will defend their homes like badgers, but if we can prevent the need for that we will.” Legolas shot him a sharp look but held his tongue. From their vantage point they could see Dwalin, Lady Dis, Lady Naris, and a few others making their way along one of the winding tracks towards a hill with a green door. “Dwalin told me they intend to visit for a few hours only. Shall we visit the marketplace? I seem to recall that you are fond of sweet pastries.” Legolas shrugged and unstrung his bow, gesturing for the Man to precede him.

 

 

Ooo

 

Thranduil chuckled, shaking his head ruefully. Trust the ever-resourceful elder daughter of Bard to enlist his valet/assistant/bodyguard, Luinloth, to make certain he ate. The elf in question had placed to tray, filled with a modest amount of food and exactly one berry tart, in front of him moments before with a raised eyebrow and the comment, “I trust I do not have to stand over you to make certain that you eat, my lord?” Still chuckling, he applied himself to his meal while looking over the proposed trade agreement with Erebor.

 

It needed little tweaking, but these things were always done with negotiation. He made notations in several sections, initialed his changes and sealed it, setting it aside for the courier. Taking a bite of bread, he perused the letter from Dain, eyebrows shooting up as he laid the bread aside. He released a breath he had not realized he was holding and closed his eyes briefly before taking a clean sheet of parchment and setting his pen to it, his lunch forgotten.

 

Ooo

 

Legolas perched atop a large rock, turning an arrow idly over in his fingers, his attention on the group of dwarves winding their way back up to their camp. He hopped down, bowing respectfully to Lady Dis as she drew even with him. With a slight smile, she handed a cloth bag to him.

 

“Master Baggins said he remembered your fondness for sweet things and sent honey cakes for you with his compliments,” she said, a hint of her sons' playfulness in her tone and expression.

 

“Thank you, my lady. I shall write to Master Baggins and thank him for thinking of me,” he said, his dimples on full display as he smiled at her. 

 

“I would speak with you again before we leave in the morning, if you are not standing guard, Master Taurion.”

 

“I am off duty in two hours time, Lady Dis. I will be at your disposal any time thereafter.” He bowed again.

 

“I will send someone to escort you.” She nodded briefly and her party continued on towards the camp.

 

“Good manners for one of the tall folk,” one of the males commented once they were out of earshot. “Someone had a good hand in his raising.”

 

“Indeed,” Dis remarked, humor lacing her tone. “I shall make a point of telling his father that when next I see him.” The dwarf who had made the first remark turned a startled look on the her.

 

“I didn't know you knew him, my lady.”

 

“Yes, I know him. In fact, Master Taurion saved my life once when I was but a child. A small measure of respect for him would not go amiss.” It was Dwalin's turn to look startled.

 

“Thorin told me about that but he never told me that it was him.” He frowned thoughtfully. “That explains some things.” Dis' expression turned curious, but Dwalin said nothing else. 

 

Ooo

 

“Prince Legolas, please come in.” Naris held the tent flap aside, allowing his to duck through the opening.

 

“I thank you, my lady,” he replied quietly. He turned to Dis, “My lady Dis, you wished to see me?”

 

“Thank you for coming, my lord. Please, have a seat.” She indicated the table and he again carefully folded his legs under it. “Would you care for a goblet of wine and some of Bilbo's seed cakes?”

 

“Yes, thank you.” He accepted both the wine and a plate of the cakes from Naris before she bowed and passed back through the tent's entrance.

 

“My lord,” she began before he raised a hand to stop her.

 

“Please, I am much more comfortable being addressed merely as Legolas or even Taurion. Away from my father's domain, titles mean very little.” She studied him for a moment before nodding.

 

“Legolas, then. I wished to tell you that I have decided that Tauriel will rest with my son. It would be what Kili wished.” He breathed out heavily.

 

“Thank you. Tauriel would wish it so also.” She nodded again.

 

“I thought as much from your description of her. This is as close as they may get to being together. However much we all may wish that things had ended differently, we can at least give them that.” It was his turn to nod, and he took a quick, deep draught of the wine. “You grieve her loss as I grieve mine, however much you may try to hide it.” He met her eyes for a moment before looking away.

 

“She was my sister in every aspect except blood. I miss the thought of my mother, though I remember little of her, but I grew up with Tauriel. I miss her. I always will.”

 

“Then we will speak of her, and of Kili. Of happy times with them.”

 

“Of both your sons. And of your brother.” He raised his glass and she smiled, raising her own to touch his.

 

 

TBC


End file.
